Toss Up (The Toss Trilogy) Read Online Free Page A

keep an eye on her himself.
     

 
    chapter three
     
    No way she needed this. Not now.
    Sally sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, the day’s s econd mug of coffee cooling untouched, the laptop Jim had returned the day before sitting unopened before her. Tyler was off to school. She had half an hour before walking over to the shelter, and she was irrationally afraid to go.
    Get your head on straight, Sal. You’ve handled this kind of thing before. Shake it off. She had a research paper to work on for her Economics class, and instead she was sitting here wasting time, letting her thoughts spin in circles like water running down a drain. Like her plans were going down the drain.
    If she was ever going to finish college, now was the time. She’d quit school a semester’s worth of credits shy of her degree, so she could ma rry Trent before he went into basic training. She was supposed to finish up while he was deployed, but Tyler came along, so she put it off. Then, just when Tyler was ready to start school, Trent had been killed and she’d had to build a new life. Last January, she’d resolved to complete the blasted degree and found to her consternation that some of her credits would soon expire.
    She began taking the last few classes, keeping an eye on the calendar. Her online Economics course would complete the program. She had to pass. If she didn’t, her science credits would expire, and she’d have to start re-taking things like Chemistry. She shuddered—Chemistry had nearly killed her the first time.
    No. This paper was fifty percent of her grade. She had to get it done. She had to pass the class. It was now or never, and never wasn’t an option—it would set a bad example for Tyler.
    Come on, brain. F ocus!
    But it was no use. Her fearful thoughts continued to circle around the stalker and the things Jim had said. Darn it! It was his fault she was so nervous about this. She’d always been able to handle it before. Well, it’s time to go to the shelter. Put your game face on and let’s do this thing.
    Sally dumped the cold coffee down the drain and rinsed the mug with numb fingers. Reluctantly, she prepared to go out into the cold. Parka, gloves, boots… it seemed that the more she bundled up, the safer she felt. She switched out the hip-skimming parka for a knee-length wool coat and added a long woolen scarf. Then, bringing the shelter’s laptop along, she pulled her van out of the garage and, contrary to her usual pattern, drove the two hundred yards from her drive to the shelter parking lot. She slid the van into the slot nearest the shelter entrance. The usual chorus of welcoming barks rang like alarm bells in her brain this morning. After a quick internal debate, she left the doors unlocked—ready for a quick retreat if needed.
    Stop this. There’s no one here. It’s just like normal.
    “Normal day, normal sounds, normal routine.” Repeating the words to herself like a mantra, she settled her shoulders and unlocked the entryway. Gloves into pockets, coat onto hook. She pushed open the heavy wooden door leading to the lobby.
    “ Normal day, normal sounds, normal routine.”
    She set the laptop on her desk and marched through the lobby and to the far end of the kennel wing to begin her morning chores. The racket the dogs were making while waiting to be fed masked any other sounds in the building—she might as well be deaf—anyone could come into the shelter unheard. Slamming the door on that line of thought, she focused on her work.
    “Normal day, normal sounds, normal routine.”
    Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her ribs as she bent to pet the mixed-breed pup in the first pen. But when half the raucous dogs had quieted— food taking priority over the joy of raising a racket—time and routine had settled her anxiety. More than half finished. The next pen held an aging Airedale named Max. He was one of her favorites, a large handsome dog with a black saddle patterned on