Excerpt from A Signal Shown

Brenna was nearly running when she rounded the side of the house. The electric lanterns above the doors of the two associate houses, as well as the yard lights along the fountain at the center of the circular driveway, illuminated the cobblestone expanse. The murmur of the water and the thud of her shoes against the bricks were the only sounds.
Swiftly Brenna leapt up the steps to her building, key in hand. Moments later she was jerking open the door to her flat, slipping inside, turning the latch. The reach for the light switch was instinctive. In the silent living room she heard her rapid breathing and felt the pounding of her heart. What had just happened? She was frightened, but of what? She'd seen no one, had heard nothing threatening.
Brenna went to the sofa and settled onto it. As she put her camera onto the coffee table, it rattled against the glass top, and she saw her hands were trembling. Had it been a panic attack or had she'd picked up on something wrong?
Slowly her breathing evened and she stopped shaking. Pushing herself off the sofa, she went to the kitchen. When she faced the bank of uncovered windows, she stopped in the doorway. Dammit, stop acting like a scared kid! She hurried to the cabinet over the counter and yanked a glass off the shelf. Tugging at the cork, she tilted the Bailey's bottle over the glass, knocking it against the rim only twice before the glass was full. Turning her back on the blank panes, she snatched up the bottle. When she reached the living room, her hands were trembling again. She gulped a healthy swig of the liqueur.
Brenna set down the glass and bottle, then sank onto the couch, snagging the green plaid throw from the arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. She didn't have to think about it right now. Probably be better if she didn't. Too much weird shit going on. She fumbled for the camera, nearly knocking it off the coffee table before she curled her fingers around it. She'd gotten some shots—enough to warrant going back with the sixteen-millimeter. The lighting would be a bitch to get right, but it'd be worth it to try.
Flicking the switch to run back through the photos she'd taken, she reached again for the glass. Sipping the creamy liqueur, she saw a decent snap of the lichen on the rock, and a stand of pine saplings that wasn't too bad. She'd caught the look of interdependence in the way the spindly young trees leaned against each other, as if too many strong winds had come their way.
When she came to the image of the finger-shadows extending down the hill, Brenna sighed. No way could the small lens capture the impression of claws, but she'd hoped for more than she'd gotten. The dark areas dominated the square screen, with the trees themselves showing up as only lighter vertical shapes. The flash had illuminated the nearest trunks, but that served to focus on the pines rather than the shadows. How would she manage the contrast?
She moved on to the shots of the house. Her gaze sharpened. A whitish shape was under the roofline, near the attic window. Brenna gently rubbed against the screen with a corner of the throw, but she couldn't tell what it was. No way to tell without more detail. She levered herself off the sofa and headed for the studio and her laptop.
Downloading the snapshots onto the hard drive, Brenna sipped more of the liqueur. She was feeling better. Nothing like a little alcohol to even out the bumps. Bumps in the night, no, things that go bump in the night.
Glancing down at the laptop screen, Brenna saw the download had been completed. She clicked through the shots, stopping at the series she'd taken of Wisdom Court. Another click enlarged them, and she bent over the first shot to check for the anomaly. There it was. She jerked back in shock, and the glass slipped out of her hand onto the rug. "Holy shit."
A chill snaked down her spine. She was looking at a white face in the attic window. From it desperate eyes stared at her.