If he stepped outside unarmed, he might not be the only one investigating whatever lay out there in the snow. With that thought, he turned away from the window and grabbed the hammer he kept under the sink. It wasn’t much, but it was solid, heavy enough to fend off anything that got too close.
He double-checked the locks before slipping on his thickest coat and scarf, then took a deep breath. The storm was growing worse, but he couldn’t ignore the knot in his gut that told him something wasn’t right.