Maizie wasn’t purposely quiet, but the slightest breath seemed to echo like a gale wind in the silence. She reached the top of the landing on the balls of her feet, sidestepping the old floorboards she knew would squeak.

She glanced to the right at the dark wood door of Granny’s room, then to the left at the matching door of her own room. The bathroom door was directly in front of her and not even a sliver of light showed underneath. Why hadn’t Gray turned on any lights?

A small gasp and the tiny click of a door being closed made her look toward Granny’s room. He’d been watching her. The tension knot across her shoulders tightened, anger boiling away caution and reason.

Maizie cleared the distance to the door in three quick strides, turning the knob so hard and fast the cheap lock broke with a little snap. A split second passed for Maizie to consider why the door had been locked to begin with. She threw open the door.

Light from the tall dusk-to-dawn lamp out front streamed through the side window, creating contours of light and darkness across the wood floor. The room was empty expect for the bed and several boxes stacked in the far corner. The closet doors were gone. The space had once been so full with Granny’s things, doors had just gotten in the way. Now the closet stood empty and dark.

Maizie stepped into the room, her senses flaring, her gaze searching for Gray. Someone’s panicked breaths filled the dark silence, fear sweetened the air. It wasn’t Gray.

No sooner had the thought formed in her mind than a hand latched around her upper arm and the door swung shut behind her. A hard yank stumbled her backward into Anthony Cadwick’s big chest.

“Where is it?”

She gasped. Cool steel pressed against her neck, the sharp point of his knife pricking her skin. She hissed against the pain. Her heart stuttered. “No. Don’t. Please.”

He kept his mouth close to her ear, his voice a low grumble. His breath warmed the side of her face, moist and rank with fear. “How’d you get in without it tearing your throat out?”

Maizie worked fast to get her surprise behind her, to slow the gallop of her heart. She tried to think, to understand what was happening. “What are you doing here? This is private-”

“This dump’s mine now, so shut up about the trespassing shit. Who cares? I gotta get out of here, and if you made it in, that means I can make it out.” Anthony pushed her forward, his fingers digging into her arm, leading her to the window.

“What do you mean you own this place? Granny-” She stumbled, but Anthony kept pushing her forward. Before she could finish her sentence, they reached the window.

He leaned their shoulders against the frame, their bodies angled to face the door across the room, her body in front of his like a shield. His gaze darted over the front yard, the driveway and into the darkness of the forest. His rapid-fire pulse hummed through his chest into her back. He was desperate, near crazed with fear.

“What’s going on, Anthony?”

His grip tightened around her arm. “Did you see it?”

“See what?”

“The wolf. A big silver son of a bitch.”

Relief washed over Maizie like a warm blanket. Gray was here. How had she missed him? She must’ve slipped inside before he’d gotten a chance to stop her. But where was he now? What had he done to cause a man like Cadwick to behave like a frightened rabbit? “I didn’t see anything. What happened?”

“It chased me, that’s what happened. The fucker tried to kill me. Barely made it inside. Can’t say as much for Frank.”

“Frank?”

“My driver. The thing chased him off into the woods. God knows what happened to him.” Anthony’s whole body shuddered against hers. “I think I heard him scream. Shit, this is bad.”

Maizie remembered the deadbolt on the front door. Frank didn’t make it inside because Anthony hadn’t let him in. Of all the things Gray might be, he wasn’t a killer, but Anthony didn’t know that. In his mind, he’d sacrificed another human being to save himself. And he was good with it.

Her stomach roiled at the thought. She squirmed, but Cadwick pressed the knife, drawing a warm trickle of blood. She winced, the tiny stream raced down her neck, hot against her skin. “He won’t hurt you, Anthony. Just let me go.”

“Right. You didn’t see the size of its teeth.”

The better to eat your selfish heart out with, you bastard. Maizie had had enough. She grabbed his wrist, pulled his knife-wielding hand from her neck and stepped out of his hold. He didn’t seem to notice. She wasn’t sure if he’d let her go or if she was just that much stronger than him now.

“You’re being ridiculous. Letting your imagination get the best of you.” She went to the door and flicked the light switch. “Pull yourself together and tell me why you think you own my grandmother’s property.”

The room flooded with light. Anthony squinted, though the enormous black pupils in his eyes showed his panic. He raced past her to the light switch, slammed into the wall and clawed at it until the room went dark again.

“No lights, no lights. It’ll come back.” He was panting, leaning his side and face against the wall. “Those eyes. God damn, I’ll never forget those big pale eyes.”

The better to see lying swindlers like you. She folded her arms across her belly. “Fine. But I want answers. Why are you here? And what did you mean you own this place?”

Anthony swallowed loud enough for her to hear. He turned, pivoting on his shoulder against the wall. His head leaned back, his chest swelling and falling with deep breaths as he dug into his breast pocket. He pulled out a small stack of neatly folded papers. “Ester signed the deed last night. The house, the land…it’s all mine.”

He held the papers out to Maizie and she took them. Even in the dark she could read the word “deed” perfectly. Below it, typed along the lines provided, was the address of the cottage.

“That’s not possible. Granny would never-”

“She’ll do whatever her little boy tells her to do,” Anthony said, his voice steadier, edged with a smug humor.

Maizie snapped her gaze to him. “So you were the one pretending to be my dad.”

He pushed up along the wall, got his feet under him. He tugged the hem of his suit jacket, straightened his tie and smoothed his shirt. “Nobody’s going to believe the old lady didn’t know who I was. Can’t swing a dead cat around here without hitting a magazine or newspaper with my face on it. It’s just business.”

“It’s not business.” She hated how her emotions thinned her voice. She swallowed. Calmed herself. “It’s trickery. It’s theft. It’s taking advantage of an old woman who misses her son. It’s…despicable.”

The insults seemed to put Anthony in his right mind, as though the normalcy and familiarity of it calmed his fear. He shoved off the wall and sauntered past her, snatching the papers back as he went. “It’s also a timely turn of events for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“What with your loan application rejected, I’d imagine the income from the sale will come in handy.”

She hadn’t heard from the bank yet. No one knew she’d even applied. Without the loan she wasn’t sure she could manage everything, the business, her rent, Green Acres, the taxes on the cottage…food. How could he know?

Anthony turned, catching her gaze. “I paid a fair price, Ms. Hood. More than fair. She couldn’t have gotten a better deal. And with your financial situation, you really can’t be choosy.”

“I didn’t want to sell.”

He shrugged. “Another poor business decision. Lucky for you, your grandmother has provided the means to save your business.”

“I didn’t want to sell.” How had this happened? She’d let herself get distracted, let her heart cloud her focus. Granny counted on her, Cherri and Bob counted on her. She thought she could do it all, take care of everything all by herself if she just kept focused. She’d failed.