“Did you put someone up to it?” she screamed at the sheriff. “That is creepy and weird!”

“Calm yourself, Miss… Kelly,” Cameron ordered, rolling his eyes skyward. He wasn’t alone, and so he had recurred to referring to her by her fake name, which she was grateful for. “Tell me again what you saw.”

“I saw a man standing right there!” She gestured toward the shed and watched as the sheriff exchanged glances with the rookie cop at his side.

“What did he look like?”

“I don’t know!” Gabby screeched. “A man! Medium build, average height, kind of balding…” She stared imploringly at them. “Did you search the area?”

“Miss Kelly, how much have you had to drink today?” the rookie asked.

Cameron cast his riding partner a sidelong look, but said nothing. Gabriella was furious.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she roared. “You come here asking me about suspicious activity and when I report it, you write me off as drunk?”

The younger cop glanced uneasily at his superior, but the sheriff stared at her intently.

“No one is writing you off as anything,” he told her. “I am sure you think you saw something.”

“Aren’t you just a cunning wordsmith?” Gabby snarled. “You know what, forget I called you. Get out of here.”

“We assure you, we’re taking your story very seriously!” the young rookie protested, looking from the irate woman to his boss, as if trying desperately to understand the dynamic, but both ignored him.

Their stares unbending, Gabriella pointed at the door.

“Just get out of here,” she insisted. “What a joke your police force is.” The men did not respond, but Gabby could see she had struck a nerve with her last comment. She decided to stick it to them as a parting shot. “What should I expect from a hick town anyway?”

Her smirk was short-lived when Cameron grinned easily.

“Well, you can always go back to the big city. I hear that you managed to live straight and narrow over there,” Cameron piped up, and Gabby felt the blood drain from her face as he winked, closing the door in his wake.

Note to self; never call these clowns again, no matter what the situation. You’re going to have to protect yourself from now on.

She knew just what to do.

The storm increased slightly, chubby drops of rain pelting against the windshield of the taxi as they drove toward the town’s giant superstore.

I hate having to leave the house, she thought, but she wondered if her house was safe any longer. Could it have been my imagination? She could not believe that she had made up the vision of a strange man watching her. She tried to use reason, talking logically to her moderately panicked inner self. The sheriff had just stopped by, you had been drinking, and you’ve been under a lot of stress. It’s possible you imagined the man…

By the time the cab pulled into the parking lot of the superstore, she had almost convinced herself that she was being ridiculous.

Oh well, she thought, hopping out of the car. I’m here now. I may as well follow through with it.

She entered the superstore and looked around, her eyes trailed to the signage dictating the aisles.

Almost immediately, she found what she was looking for: guns and ammunition.

The rain continued into the evening and Gabby took solace in another bottle of wine and a soft blanket, binge watching Netflix on the living room couch as the storm splattered against the windows. She had all but convinced herself that what she had witnessed earlier that morning had been a figment of her imagination, and now she felt her eyelids grow heavy.

As she drifted in and out of sleep, the television began to affect her subconscious, and she heard the voice of the hero onscreen become Cameron Lapin’s.

“You’re not safe here,” Cameron said as the actor. “You have to leave this place before it’s too late.”

Suddenly she and the heroine were the same and she was in the set, staring worriedly into Cameron’s eyes. “But where will I go?” she wondered.

“Anywhere but here. It’s time you got out of town.” His words caused tears to spring to her eyes.

“You don’t want me here?” she whimpered, blinking. “I thought you loved me.”

“I can’t protect you!” he roared, seizing her by the arms and shaking her roughly. “How can I live with myself if—”

A sudden crash rattled her, and Gabby wasn’t sure if it was from the television or her semi-conscious dream. Her lids parted sleepily and she smiled fuzzily at the man standing before her in the living room.

“What are you doing here?” she murmured, not immediately recognizing the danger she faced.

“You’re a little whore,” the stranger hissed. Gabby bolted up on the sofa, the remnants of her trance-like state fading instantly.

She screamed and scrambled to the floor as the first shot rang out, covering her head with frail arms, blocked only by the coffee table and the man intent on killing her. Rolling to side, she crawled toward the front door, waiting for the bullet that would shatter her spine. My gun! Where is my gun?

In her panic, she looked about, trying to reconcile where she had put the firearm upon her return from the store. She could see the weapon on a dining room chair and she fled toward it, realizing her mistake immediately. She would never have time to load the weapon before the assassin killed her.

Another bang was heard, and the ammunition landed within inches from her head, lodging in the dining room wall. She whirled to stare at the man, her eyes wild as he cocked the pistol once more.

“Who are you?” she shrieked. “What do you want—”

She did not get a chance to finish her question. There would be no escaping the next firing. Gabby stood helplessly as she watched her life flash before her eyes with horror.

In slow motion, a flurry of movement leapt between her and the bullet aimed for her chest. A furry, white and grey beast took on a red spiral of blood at its shoulder.

Uncomprehendingly, both Gabriella and the killer stared in shock at the animal as it raised itself back on its hind legs and released a howl unlike anything Gabby had heard in her life.

The primal scream reverberated through the small house, shaking the glass in the window panes. The beast turned its full attention on the man, saliva glistening against its pristine white fangs.

“Holy shit!” the assassin gasped as he realized he was the prey.

He tried to run, but the dire wolf was upon him in seconds, sinking its blade-like teeth into the back of the terrified man. An attempted squeal of pain was abruptly cut short as the wolf encircled a talon laden paw around his throat, ending his life.

Gabriella watched the scene, horror and relief flooding through her simultaneously.

Run! She screamed to herself, but her legs were lead weights. She could not pull her eyes from the beast violently devouring the blood-soaked corpse. She inherently knew that she would be next when it finished his kill, but her brain would not communicate movement to the rest of her body.

After what seemed like an eternity had passed, the wolf turned his majestically terrifying head, his yellow eyes boring into hers. The intense fear which had almost suffocated her seemed to evaporate as she read the expression in his face. He snorted at her, licking the excess red from his snout and spun.

“No wait!” Gabriella cried, reaching a hand out as if to stop him, despite fully knowing that the animal could—most likely—not understand her. “Don’t leave me here! What am I supposed to do?”

The wolf paused, barely looking back at her over his massive shoulder. It was then that Gabriella saw that the bullet hole had begun to heal, the slug forcing itself out of the gash in his shoulder. Her jaw dropped.

“What are you?” she breathed.

He threw his head back and released another feral howl. Then Gabriella blinked, and he was gone.

Shaking, she sank onto the sofa, trying not to look at the man who had tried to kill her. She could not begin to understand what had happened or make sense of the wolf and the attempt on her life. She reached for her burner cell, the one she had bought after leaving New York so she would be untraceable.

But someone found me anyway. Is this man tied to New York? He called me a whore. Is he a stalker? Some warped vigilante? And the wolf? Did that happen? What is going on in this town?

With trembling fingers, she picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1, not knowing what she would tell dispatch.

What can I tell them? I don’t know what happened myself.

“Great Falls Police Department. What’s your emergency?”

The voice was not familiar.

“This is Gab— This is Grace Kelly,” she gasped into the phone. “I need the police at 1672 56th Street South immediately.”

“What happened, ma’am?”

It was only then that the incredible stress of the situation hit Gabby, and she burst into gut wrenching sobs.

“I have no idea!” she wailed.