Free Guarding Sophie by Julie Brannagh Page B

The sunshine was almost blinding, and she saw the flash again. She shielded her eyes with one hand and peered in the direction of the two flashes.
    A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy blond hair stood next to a late-model car with a pair of binoculars in one hand. She didn’t call out to him. In an instant, with the shock of recognition, she was too afraid to cry out or to scream. She knew who he was. And she couldn’t figure out how he’d managed to find her, despite all of her efforts to leave no trace of where she’d gone.
    He lifted his other hand in a half wave as he started running toward Kyle’s house.
    She turned and ran back inside.

Chapter Nine
    K YLE WOKE OUT of a sound sleep to a frantic Sophie and banging on his front door. She pushed the panic button on the security system pad that was mounted on the wall next to the door.
    â€œDo you have a landline?” she asked. “I need to call the police. He’s out there. I saw him from your deck, and now he’s here—”
    â€œWho’s here?”
    He still heard banging on the front door. The person standing on his front porch had added continuous doorbell ringing to the repertoire as well.
    â€œPeter. He was out there. He saw me. He’s here. Oh, God.” She ran into his kitchen. The entire front of his house was windows; there was nowhere for either of them to hide. He had no idea if a 911 call would reach the Noel Police Department from his place in the woods, but he had to try. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed.
    â€œNoel Police Department.”
    He pulled breath into his lungs. “This is Kyle Carlson. Please send the police to my house. My guest has a stalker who’s just shown up at my front door.”
    â€œWhat’s your address, Mr. Carlson?”
    â€œI just moved in here. I think it’s on Whispering Pines Drive. It’s the A-frame cabin at the top of the hill if that helps at all.”
    â€œOne moment, please,” the 911 operator said. “Stay on the line.”
    â€œThe guy has a restraining order. He came here from Florida.”
    The man on his front porch was still banging on the door and ringing the doorbell, and now he added shouting. “Answer the door, bitch. I know you’re in here. We need to have a talk.”
    Sophie appeared in the kitchen doorway. Kyle could see her shaking from across the room.
    â€œHe’s not going to leave,” she choked out.
    â€œMr. Carlson, police are on their way. Please stay on the line. Do you have a weapon?”
    â€œNo, I don’t,” Kyle said.
    â€œThe officers will be there as soon as possible.”
    â€œOpen up! I know you’re in there, Sophie!” the man yelled.
    Kyle could hear sirens from Noel seconds later. The pounding on the door stopped abruptly as one of the panes of heavy glass set into it cracked.
    â€œGet away from the windows,” Kyle shouted to Sophie.
    The 911 operator was telling him the police would be there in less than a minute. He pulled Sophie into his teeny office. Seconds later, he heard shattering glass and a car racing away from his house.
    The police arrived, but not fast enough to save one of the huge windows in Kyle’s living room. Peter had thrown a large rock through it. Kyle pulled the shade down in his office and set Sophie in his desk chair while two officers took pictures of the damage and two more officers searched his property.
    â€œWe’ve got guys coming from the surrounding communities too. They’ll be here soon,” one of the officers told him. “Did you see which direction the guy went?”
    â€œI was trying to keep her away from the windows.” He sent a hand through his hair. “It sounded like he took off farther up the hill, but I didn’t think there were roads above the house.”
    â€œThey’re old logging roads. He’s not going to get far. We’d also like to talk with the