kicked in, I realized this was right. Perfect. I recognized the texture, the nuances of my fear. It had been an intimate part of my nightmares and the visions. It led me to Mitch. And it led me here.
I wrapped my fingers in the hem of my shirt again and touched the table. The image of a diagram, like a map but with times and dates as well as addresses filled my head. I stood silent, eyes closed, soaking up the imprint. No way could I take a chance on losing this one. Not until I’d had a chance to get home and draw it out with paper and pencil. I stayed there a long time, committing the image to memory even though my nerves were beginning to twitch. I ignored them.
Until I heard the front door open. Scuffling. Not a stealthy entrance. I froze, blood pooling in ice cubes that chilled my body and held me rooted to the floor.
I had to make like a shadow and disappear. Fast.
Footsteps. But no voices. Just one person, then?
“Hey, gloves, dickhead. Then hit the bedroom. Boss says we don’t find that diagram, we’ll be fish bait.” Male voice. Coarse. So, more than one person.
A scream tore at my throat, fighting to get free. Not now. Scream later, run now.
Bloody, bloody hell.
I whirled to face the window.
A shadow crossed the room, and an unholy sound clawed at the back of my throat. I clamped my hands over my mouth. Quiet, El. Quiet .
I darted to the window, tripped. Sirens crashed through the quiet and smothered the sound of my body hitting the floor. Ugh. No telling what was on this floor. My fingers picked up a bunch of images, all too garbled to sort into useful images. Move, El. Get the hell out of here!
Adrenaline poured through my veins, and I fought the wild need to crash through the window and escape.
Yelling came from down the hall, but I couldn’t make out the words through the Doppler effect of the sirens. The noise ricocheted inside my skull and left a stabbing pain behind.
I crawled—the scent of my fear stinging my nostrils—reached the window in seconds, pulled myself up, and peeked over the sill.
Had someone seen me? Or them? Called the cops?
I peered into the night, searching the dark for one of the killers.
A wind had come up and shadows danced around the yard with wild abandon. No way to tell if someone lurked in the dark or not. A huge branch attached to the neighbor’s oak tree dipped in the wind. The shadow crawled over my body, and evil closed in around me.
I couldn’t wait any longer. Whoever was in the house was right there . Behind me. Dropping out of the window, I landed with a thud, banged my knee, and stashed the pain in the back of my mind where it could commiserate with my piercing headache. Nothing left for it but to stretch up, slam the window shut, and run.
It didn’t take more than a few seconds before I realized there were fire trucks speeding by on the cross-street a block away. Damn. No help there. Why the hell didn’t I think before I rushed head-long into criminal pursuits?
I reached the car, no one chasing me. That I knew about, anyway. I burned rubber getting out of there, slammed on the brakes when I hit my driveway, pulled off my sweat-drenched clothes as soon as I’d locked the front door behind me, and hung out in the shower until the shaking stopped.
What the hell had I been thinking?
Eleven
I cradled a cup of hot water between my hands and watched dawn arrive, all pink-streaked and full of promise. No nightmares, no visions, but the diagram sitting on my night table weighed heavy. Well, not the diagram per se. It was really more about explaining my clandestine B and E to Violet and Adam that weighed. And the diagram was evidence, illegal evidence, but still not something I could hide.
And then there was the fight with Mitch.
It wasn’t that I intended to spend the morning hiding in bed, but after my pre-dawn wake up, I went back to bed and buried under the covers, ignoring the blast of the alarm when it went off several hours later. No clients
I wrapped my fingers in the hem of my shirt again and touched the table. The image of a diagram, like a map but with times and dates as well as addresses filled my head. I stood silent, eyes closed, soaking up the imprint. No way could I take a chance on losing this one. Not until I’d had a chance to get home and draw it out with paper and pencil. I stayed there a long time, committing the image to memory even though my nerves were beginning to twitch. I ignored them.
Until I heard the front door open. Scuffling. Not a stealthy entrance. I froze, blood pooling in ice cubes that chilled my body and held me rooted to the floor.
I had to make like a shadow and disappear. Fast.
Footsteps. But no voices. Just one person, then?
“Hey, gloves, dickhead. Then hit the bedroom. Boss says we don’t find that diagram, we’ll be fish bait.” Male voice. Coarse. So, more than one person.
A scream tore at my throat, fighting to get free. Not now. Scream later, run now.
Bloody, bloody hell.
I whirled to face the window.
A shadow crossed the room, and an unholy sound clawed at the back of my throat. I clamped my hands over my mouth. Quiet, El. Quiet .
I darted to the window, tripped. Sirens crashed through the quiet and smothered the sound of my body hitting the floor. Ugh. No telling what was on this floor. My fingers picked up a bunch of images, all too garbled to sort into useful images. Move, El. Get the hell out of here!
Adrenaline poured through my veins, and I fought the wild need to crash through the window and escape.
Yelling came from down the hall, but I couldn’t make out the words through the Doppler effect of the sirens. The noise ricocheted inside my skull and left a stabbing pain behind.
I crawled—the scent of my fear stinging my nostrils—reached the window in seconds, pulled myself up, and peeked over the sill.
Had someone seen me? Or them? Called the cops?
I peered into the night, searching the dark for one of the killers.
A wind had come up and shadows danced around the yard with wild abandon. No way to tell if someone lurked in the dark or not. A huge branch attached to the neighbor’s oak tree dipped in the wind. The shadow crawled over my body, and evil closed in around me.
I couldn’t wait any longer. Whoever was in the house was right there . Behind me. Dropping out of the window, I landed with a thud, banged my knee, and stashed the pain in the back of my mind where it could commiserate with my piercing headache. Nothing left for it but to stretch up, slam the window shut, and run.
It didn’t take more than a few seconds before I realized there were fire trucks speeding by on the cross-street a block away. Damn. No help there. Why the hell didn’t I think before I rushed head-long into criminal pursuits?
I reached the car, no one chasing me. That I knew about, anyway. I burned rubber getting out of there, slammed on the brakes when I hit my driveway, pulled off my sweat-drenched clothes as soon as I’d locked the front door behind me, and hung out in the shower until the shaking stopped.
What the hell had I been thinking?
Eleven
I cradled a cup of hot water between my hands and watched dawn arrive, all pink-streaked and full of promise. No nightmares, no visions, but the diagram sitting on my night table weighed heavy. Well, not the diagram per se. It was really more about explaining my clandestine B and E to Violet and Adam that weighed. And the diagram was evidence, illegal evidence, but still not something I could hide.
And then there was the fight with Mitch.
It wasn’t that I intended to spend the morning hiding in bed, but after my pre-dawn wake up, I went back to bed and buried under the covers, ignoring the blast of the alarm when it went off several hours later. No clients
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