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“I’m exhausted,” Annie muttered as they made their way down the hall. “I can’t wait to fall into bed.”

“Me too,” he replied wearily.

But as they climbed between the sheets and curled up together, he had the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right.

* * *

When Geoff finally arrived back at the campgrounds he parked his car in the trees away from the cabin so it couldn’t been seen. By the time he walked inside he barely had the energy to peel off his clothes and collapse on the bed. But even as he sank into a deep sleep he was plotting his next move.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Brody was an early riser, and when he stirred he found Annie still sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he softly slipped from the bed and padded into the bathroom. After a quick shower he quietly dressed, signaled Bella to follow him, and crept into the hall. As he entered the kitchen he thought he might whip up a batch of pancakes for breakfast, but stopped short.

His favorite mug was sitting on the table.

It was his habit to wash it and leave it on the counter near the coffee pot for the morning.

“That’s weird,” he muttered, picking it up. “I guess I must have been distracted by the storm.”

While the coffee was brewing he washed it out, and decided to have a muffin to tide him over. Opening the pantry and pulling out the plastic tub, he lifted the lid—and frowned. His mother always made a dozen and gave him six. He and Annie had each had one the day before, leaving four, yet there were only two left.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” he muttered, but Bella barked, asking for her breakfast.

Picking up the box of kibble, he filled her dish, then lifted out a muffin, poured the coffee into his mug, and sat at the table.

“Morning…”

“Hey, beautiful,” he murmured, turning around and seeing Annie padding towards him bleary eyed and wearing a long sleeved T-shirt. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Not exactly. I rolled over to hug you and you were gone,” she replied with a yawn as she sank into a chair.

“I’ll get you some coffee, but I have to ask…how many muffins were left in the container?”

“Four, why?”

“There’s only two.”

“Two?”

“Yeah, two.”

“That’s weird.”

“And I found my cup on the table, but I know I washed it out and left it on the counter like I always do.”

“So…what’s going on? Oh no! Do you think…?”

“Geoff was here?” he muttered, finishing the unspoken end of her sentence. “I don’t know if it was him, but unless there’s a ghost in this house someone was. Hold on.” Abruptly standing up and striding to the back door, he stepped outside and stared down at the frog. “Yep. We had a visitor. The frog has been moved.”

“What frog?” she asked, hurrying across to join him.

“I keep the back door key under that concrete frog and it’s been moved,” he replied, pointing down at it. “See? I just tilt it back, but you can clearly see the outline of where it usually sits. It’s out almost two inches.”

“Oh, my gosh! What should we do?”

“We’re havin’ breakfast. Then I’m callin’ the sheriff.”

“Shouldn’t we call him first?”