Free Troubled Treats by Jessica Beck Page A

who it was.
    I wasn’t going in unarmed, though.  I didn’t have my trusty softball bat with me, but I had the next best thing, a jack handle that would serve to defend me just fine.  My Jeep had gone through some serious trauma at the hands of a snowy road before, and I could have used a little protection back then, but I’d failed to collect it before I’d fled into the woods. 
    That wasn’t going to happen again.
    Grabbing the handle, I started toward the door, ready for whatever I might find upstairs.  There was still police tape across the front façade, but someone had carefully slit it open in order to pass through.  I tried the door, and to my surprise, I found it unlocked!  I knew the police would have secured it before leaving, so whoever was up there had used a key, making the one in my pocket unnecessary.  How had they gotten it?  Did any of the workers have access to the building during off-hours, thus needing a key, or was this someone else entirely?  Pushing the door open, I prepared myself for anything.
    I had walked just three steps inside when I heard someone directly above me, moving or dragging something across the floor over my head.
    What was I doing?  Had I completely lost my mind?  I always shouted at the heroines in horror movies who did the exact same thing that I was doing right now.  I wasn’t sure where the false bravado had come from, but I’d never forgive myself if I wound up dead because of my own stupidity.
    This was something I shouldn’t be doing without any backup.
    I had to get out of there until I could get someone on the scene to make sure that I survived this.
     
    I never even considered calling the police.  It was a simple matter of calling Jake and waiting for him to answer.  When he finally picked up, it was clear that I’d woken him from a deep sleep.  “Jake, I’m at the wagon factory.”
    “What are you doing there?” he asked me groggily.
    “I thought I’d drive by before work.  The thing is that someone beat me to it.”
    That got his attention.  “Are they still there?”
    “As far as I can tell.  As I drove up, I saw a light coming from the second story, and when I snuck in, I heard someone moving boxes or something upstairs.”
    “You’re still in the building?  Get out!”
    “Relax. I’m standing out on the front stoop,” I said.  “But you’d better hurry.  I don’t want whoever is up there to get away.”
    “Don’t move.  I’ll be there in three minutes.”
    I started to tell him that he could barely drive that far in that amount of time, even if he were fully dressed, but my phone was dead at that point.  He’d hung up on me.
    Now what should I do?  I was tempted to slink back to my Jeep and wait there, ready to escape if whoever was inside decided to come out.  Then again, I needed to be sure that I could identify them.  I finally decided to compromise by moving over to the bushes by the front entrance.  I was out of the line of sight of the door, but I could still run if I was spotted.
    Two minutes later, Jake drove toward the building, shutting off his headlights as he coasted the last twenty feet.  That was smart of him, something that I’d failed to do.  He came up to me quickly in the darkness, and I had to wonder how he’d known that I was there.
    “How did you spot me?” I asked in a whisper, though there was no way that anyone would be able to hear me.  “I thought I was hidden pretty well.”
    “The tire iron in your hand caught my headlights before I shut them off,” he said.  “Has there been any movement up there since you called me?”
    At least he wasn’t scolding me.  I considered that a victory in my book.  “Not that I’ve been able to see.  Listen, I didn’t mean to push my luck walking into the building by myself.  As soon as I came to my senses, I got out and called you.”
    “That’s all that matters,” my husband said as he pulled out his handgun.  “I don’t suppose