Page 159 of Broken
The car stopped, the driver unrolled the tinted window. The clown mask had oversized, shadowy eyes, and an open mouth with large, yellowed, fang-like teeth.
The clown lifted a costumed arm and waved at her, then continued driving.
She stood there, her feet cemented in place while dread filled her soul. She eyed the license plate. Maryland tags. She went to pull her phone from her pocket, but she’d left it at the house, so she kept repeating the combination of letters and numbers over and over.
“C’mon, Loki.”
As she strode toward home, she glanced over her shoulder as the car continued toward the court.
With a mask that looked like that, there was no way he was headed to a children’s party. She hurried up the driveway and over to the front door. As soon as the scanner cleared her to enter, she rushed inside, bolted the door, and activated the alarm.
With her heart pounding out of her chest, she rushed into the living room and waiting by the window for the car to drive past. When it didn’t, she confirmed the front door was locked before bolting upstairs and into the spare bedroom with a side-facing window that offered a view down the street. The gray car was nowhere in sight.
Chills flew down her spine as she stood there waiting for that damn car. Loki came trotting in, dragging his still-attached leash, a toy in his mouth. She unleashed him, then continued staring down the street.
Normally, she wouldn’t think twice about a car driving by in the middle of the day, but that mask was downright terrifying… and he’d stopped to single her out.
Her phone started ringing. Abandoning her post, she ran downstairs and into Prescott’s office. The number was blocked, which meant it was probably Z.
“Hello,” she answered.
No response. She tapped the mute button, put the call on speaker, and waited.
“I’m watching you.” The line went dead.
Jacqueline hung up and called Prescott.
“Hey, there’s my woman,” he answered. “How’s your day going?”
“Someone just called me from a blocked number and told me they’re watching me.”
“I’m on my way.”
“There’s more. Someone dressed as a scary clown is watching the house.”
“Now?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She told him what happened on her walk.
“Where’s your gun?”
“In an overnight bag in the top of my closet.”
“Get it. And alarm the house.”
“Already did.”
“I’d call someone in BLACK OPS to wait with you, but I’m probably closer than any of them.”
The call waiting tone sounded. It was another call from a blocked number. “He’s calling me again.”
“Weapon up.”
She bolted to the other side of the house and into the first-floor bedroom. After pulling down the bag, she put in the code to open the lock, but her fingers were shaking and she couldn’t get the spinner to stop at the right combination. She finally got it, the lock opened, and she pulled out her Glock.
“Got it,” she said to Prescott. “The other caller hung up.”
Loki barked, and she hurried out. He was standing in the foyer, staring at the front door. With her heart pounding out a frantic rhythm, she peered through the peephole. No one was there. She hurried into the living room and glanced outside. The gray car wasn’t out front.
