angry? I didn’t even know he had a temper. “It’s just that, well, I’ve got a lot going on right now and I simply don’t have any time, so I’ve decided to hold off on dating for a while.”
“So you’re not dating anyone?” The cloud that had briefly darkened his features slipped away and was replaced by befuddlement. He looked like a kid who had just discovered he’d wandered too far from his parents.
“Nope.” Not unless you’re tall, dark and Russian, in which case I’m all over it.
Andy shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I guess I understand that.”
I doubted that, but he was willing to accept it and that’s all I cared about.
“Well, like I said, I’ve got to go feed the cat.” It took concerted effort to hide my relief.
“Okay, Sophie. I’ll see you soon, right?”
“Of course, Andy, I’ll see you at the market.” I was so good.
I felt my guard go up the minute I got into the apartment. I turned on every light and spent about a half hour meticulously checking for broken glass or anything unusual, but everything was as it should be. I stood in the middle of the living room and scowled at my published novels neatly lined up on the top bookshelf. How sad was it that I had actually lost the ability to tell the difference between fiction and reality? Dena has always said that prolonged sexual abstinence leads to early senility. I bent down to scratch Mr. Katz behind the ears.
“I’d better get Anatoly up here fast before I hurt myself diving through a looking-glass trying to find Hogwarts.”
The next morning I let my fingers do the walking through all the emergency auto-window-replacement ads. The problem was that I didn’t consider my need for a new driver’s side window an emergency. It wasn’t a new car, and I was pretty sure that the insurance company was going to consider it totaled, so why should I care if some homeless guy wanted to take a nap in it?
I closed the phone book and relaxed back into the chair. It was a typical cold, foggy San Francisco day. Perfect for lighting up a fire, taking the phone off the hook and reading a good book. I looked over at the bookcase.
There was a book on the top shelf that was slightly out of place. Funny, it hadn’t been that way last night….
I mechanically rose from the chair. With every step toward that bookcase my heartbeat got a little louder. Without being able to see the title, all I could tell was that it was a novel from my series. I pulled it out. Sex, Drugs and Murder.
I dropped the book.
There was no uncertainty this time. And if it had been in the right place before I went to bed and if I hadn’t left the apartment since then that meant someone had been in here….
“Oh my God.” I could see the front door from where I stood. It was bolted and locked. I couldn’t see any evidence of forced entry, but then there was always the window. Had they come in when I was asleep? When I was taking a shower? Were they still here? I tried to block out the faint street noise that filtered through my bay window in order to focus on any sounds that might be coming from inside. I thought I heard a quiet thump —so subtle that I couldn’t swear that I had heard it at all. It could’ve been nothing. A figment of my overly anxious mind or a bird that had inadvertently brushed against the panes of glass in the bedroom.
Or it could’ve been an intruder lying in wait.
Mr. Katz purred and curled around my feet. Keeping my back against the bookcase, I bent my knees and with one arm scooped up the cat and with the other carefully picked up the book by the pages without touching the cover. I straightened to a standing position.
“Are you ready, Mr. Katz?” Mr. Katz struggled against me.
I took that as a yes and ran for the door. I fumbled with the locks, almost dropping the book and my pet. I needed to get out. I needed to get out and call the police, and this time they were going to take me seriously. I flew out the door
“So you’re not dating anyone?” The cloud that had briefly darkened his features slipped away and was replaced by befuddlement. He looked like a kid who had just discovered he’d wandered too far from his parents.
“Nope.” Not unless you’re tall, dark and Russian, in which case I’m all over it.
Andy shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I guess I understand that.”
I doubted that, but he was willing to accept it and that’s all I cared about.
“Well, like I said, I’ve got to go feed the cat.” It took concerted effort to hide my relief.
“Okay, Sophie. I’ll see you soon, right?”
“Of course, Andy, I’ll see you at the market.” I was so good.
I felt my guard go up the minute I got into the apartment. I turned on every light and spent about a half hour meticulously checking for broken glass or anything unusual, but everything was as it should be. I stood in the middle of the living room and scowled at my published novels neatly lined up on the top bookshelf. How sad was it that I had actually lost the ability to tell the difference between fiction and reality? Dena has always said that prolonged sexual abstinence leads to early senility. I bent down to scratch Mr. Katz behind the ears.
“I’d better get Anatoly up here fast before I hurt myself diving through a looking-glass trying to find Hogwarts.”
The next morning I let my fingers do the walking through all the emergency auto-window-replacement ads. The problem was that I didn’t consider my need for a new driver’s side window an emergency. It wasn’t a new car, and I was pretty sure that the insurance company was going to consider it totaled, so why should I care if some homeless guy wanted to take a nap in it?
I closed the phone book and relaxed back into the chair. It was a typical cold, foggy San Francisco day. Perfect for lighting up a fire, taking the phone off the hook and reading a good book. I looked over at the bookcase.
There was a book on the top shelf that was slightly out of place. Funny, it hadn’t been that way last night….
I mechanically rose from the chair. With every step toward that bookcase my heartbeat got a little louder. Without being able to see the title, all I could tell was that it was a novel from my series. I pulled it out. Sex, Drugs and Murder.
I dropped the book.
There was no uncertainty this time. And if it had been in the right place before I went to bed and if I hadn’t left the apartment since then that meant someone had been in here….
“Oh my God.” I could see the front door from where I stood. It was bolted and locked. I couldn’t see any evidence of forced entry, but then there was always the window. Had they come in when I was asleep? When I was taking a shower? Were they still here? I tried to block out the faint street noise that filtered through my bay window in order to focus on any sounds that might be coming from inside. I thought I heard a quiet thump —so subtle that I couldn’t swear that I had heard it at all. It could’ve been nothing. A figment of my overly anxious mind or a bird that had inadvertently brushed against the panes of glass in the bedroom.
Or it could’ve been an intruder lying in wait.
Mr. Katz purred and curled around my feet. Keeping my back against the bookcase, I bent my knees and with one arm scooped up the cat and with the other carefully picked up the book by the pages without touching the cover. I straightened to a standing position.
“Are you ready, Mr. Katz?” Mr. Katz struggled against me.
I took that as a yes and ran for the door. I fumbled with the locks, almost dropping the book and my pet. I needed to get out. I needed to get out and call the police, and this time they were going to take me seriously. I flew out the door
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