The noise jarred my eyes open. I gasped and sat up. The luminous dial on my bedside clock told me it was two in the morning.
“Penny?” I muttered. “Did you knock something off a table?”
But the little cat was not on the foot of my bed. As I listened, heart pounding, it came again—a metallic clang like metal striking metal.
Afraid to move and afraid not to move, I swung my feet off the bed and crept to the window. Was the noise inside the house or out? It was impossible to know. What could have caused that dreadful crash?
I leaned close to the pane, peering out, my breath making little foggy circles on the window.
Moonlight bathed the yard in silvery brightness, lighting the roofs of the well and the carriage house. In the darkness of oaks, cedars, and honey suckle, a darker shadow moved. I wiped the fog off the glass and squinted at the yard. Something white and filmy drifted from the tangle of trees and bushes. It seemed to float toward the carriage house. Hardly daring to breathe, I waited for the person or thing, whatever it was, to reappear, but it didn’t. Finally, the sound of my teeth clicking together made me realize I was shaking.
Moonlight Can Be Murder by Blanche Day Manos, available in Kindle, paperback, and audio. Free with Kindle Unlimited.
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