"What in the world is that?" His jaw dropped as he stared at her house.

Ignoring the desire pulling her body taut, she glanced out the front windshield.  And like that, the invisible weight on her shoulders evaporated.  The dog spotted her and went nuts. He wiggled from the tip of his snout to his tail.  He circled. He yipped and whined.

She shrugged and opened the door. "That's Onion."  She jumped down to the driveway and snuck a sideways glance at Jake.  He sat slack-jawed behind the wheel.

Her dog galloped to her side.  No one could beat Onion in an ugly dog contest.  He looked like a drunken mad scientist had fashioned him from the left over parts of several mangy mutts.  He had a Bulldog's short, muscular body, a Chow's fluffy, curled tail and a few black spots dotted his tan coat.  A Labrador's endearing personality topped off the package.  Yep. Onion was an unsightly mess. But she loved him.

She bent and scratched him behind the ears. "What are you doing out here, you silly dog? How'd you sneak out this time?"

Onion looked ugly but he had a beautiful brain.  The dog got into or out of anywhere he wanted. She'd tried to crate him once. He escaped before she even pulled out of the drive.

"I think he just walked out the front door," Jake said, slamming his car door shut.

Claire scrutinized the wraparound porch. Sure enough, the front door hung wide open. She took a step forward, but Jake grabbed her elbow, tugging her to his side.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She yanked her arm.

"Inside my house."

He jerked her around so she was behind him as he scanned the area.

"How'd that work out for you last time you took off without thinking first?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting silently for her response.

She wanted to tell him how wrong his words were.  But she couldn't. He was right. A fact that annoyed her to no end.

"He could be in there." Jake waved toward the house. "He could be armed."

"I don't think Onion would be acting all lovey-dovey if that maniac was still here. He's not a doggie model, but he's smart."

Jake looked down at Onion, who busily sniffed his boots. He patted the dog's head. Grudgingly, she chalked up a point in his favor for being nice to Onion.

"OK, but stay with me and don't do anything stupid."

The urge to get inside overrode her need to make a snappy comeback. She didn't like it, but she wasn't going to argue the point.

She and Jake sidled up the steps to the wide front porch. The door's stained glass center oval had been shattered. Shards of painted glass littered the front porch.  The fragments sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight.

"I'm beginning to think I'm cursed," she said.

Jake clutched her hand in his, sending a jolt of energy up her arm.  "I'm beginning to agree." Together, they tiptoed around the glass and through the doorway.

Once inside, Claire stifled a scream.  The sicko's tornado of evil had left a destructive wake through the 1900s-era farm house.  She wanted to pitch a fit and throw things. Too bad the Voice of Doom had already done the job for her.

He'd thrown open the kitchen drawers and tossed the spoons and forks onto the tile floor. She found books that had been thrust off shelves and thrown across the living room.  In the dining room, broken family pictures laid on whatever surface they'd landed, glass shards decorated everything.  She couldn't take more than a few steps into the office because of the wreckage there.  Dresses, shirts, jeans, tank tops and socks littered her bedroom floor. A pair of hot pink lacy panties hung from the ceiling fan. If she wasn't so mad, she would have been embarrassed about Jake seeing that.

"Claire! Get in here."

She hustled into the kitchen. Jake stood in the pantry's open doorway, his back to her.  His bulk blocked her from seeing inside and she nudged him with her elbow.  Without looking her way, he shuffled sideways.

A gas canister sat in the middle of the pantry floor, its fumes wafting out the doorway. A bright blue bow stuck to the handle.  The killer had left a message in Cheese Whiz next to the gas can.  See you soon.

She hated the fear growing inside her.  Being frightened never helped anything.  It got in the way.  Stopped her from doing what needed to be done.  But not this time.  Too much was at stake for that. She'd have this guy's head on a pike.

"The bastard is gong to fry." Her trembling lip betrayed the bravado in her words. "No way is he burning down my house. I'll be waiting when he comes back."

"Want company?"

Claire took stock of Jake's muscular frame. This fight required more than brawn. "You any good with a gun?"

"You bet." His cold grin didn't reach his eyes.