The Trouble with Andrew by Heather Graham Page B

she heard his footsteps on the stairs, light, an easy, confident tread.
    She thought he paused on the stairway, and her heart began to beat mercilessly.
    Was he coming here?
    But he did not. She heard his door at the end of the hallway opening and closing.
    She closed her eyes again. Sleep, sleep, sleep…
    But sleep did not come easily. It seemed hours that she lay awake. He owed her. That was what he had said. She shouldn’t thank him, because he owed her. What did he mean?
    He’d explain some time …
    She groaned, buried her head in the pillow. And sometime, at long last, she slept.
    Andrew was being called a “dry” hurricane, meaning that it hadn’t dumped too much rain. The storm had moved very quickly, and people were already wondering just what would have happened had it actually sat upon Dade County for any length of time.
    It was drizzling in the morning. Katie slept hard and woke to the sound of Drew’s voice calling her name.
    He was seated by her side on the bed; he had a cup of coffee in his hand, ready to give her.
    â€œYou’re going to make someone a great wife,” she murmured, sliding up to take it.
    â€œThanks,” he said offhandedly. “You’ve got about ten minutes,” he told her, gold eyes glittering as he rose.
    â€œTen minutes!” She streaked up, the coffee in her hand, and raced toward the bathroom.
    â€œDownstairs, ten minutes!” he said, leaving the room.
    She rushed. A sweep across teeth, one through her hair—and a sixty-second makeup job. She found a short-sleeve knit dress among her belongings and shimmied into it, slid into Midge’s pumps this time, then quickly checked her camera and equipment. She had discovered a nice cache of film in the garage, so she was set.
    Within ten minutes, she was downstairs.
    â€œReady?” he said, arching a disbelieving brow.
    â€œWe’re taking the Probe!” Jordan told her delightedly.
    â€œGreat,” Katie said, “and yes, I’m ready.”
    â€œYou’re very good,” he told her.
    â€œThanks.”
    The rain had stopped, she was glad to see. But of course, when they were in the car, the radio instantly reminded them that the dousing rain had caused greater disaster for the many homeless people in the area. She thought of how quickly Drew Cunningham had gotten roofers out to maintain what had been left of her home, and she was grateful.
    It felt good to be in the car, too. The air-conditioning was on. She hadn’t felt really cool in a lifetime, it seemed.
    â€œWhat a car!” Jordan said.
    â€œGlad you like it.”
    â€œOh, I like everything of yours,” Jordan said honestly. Katie turned from the front seat to frown at him. He lifted his hand innocently.
    â€œThere!”
    They had barely left the sheltered little area of their cul-de-sac when Drew stopped the car. They had come upon an amazing sight—a steel power pole twisted into and out of an Oldsmobile.
    â€œStop?” he asked Katie.
    â€œYes, stop, please.”
    She slipped out of the Probe and quickly started snapping pictures. The power of the wind had been fantastic. She wanted her photos to be important. Photos that would capture that power.
    So that it could not be forgotten.
    When she finished, Drew drove on in silence. He took her on an amazing odyssey, and at times during their trip, she felt like crying. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Strip malls with their windows and contents completely blown out. House after house after house, destroyed. Huge warnings put up in spray paint— You loot, we shoot!
    She took pictures of the houses with their warning signs, their crumpled roofs, their boarded-up windows. The trees that lay in living rooms. They moved on.
    Police were at some of the major intersections, but traffic moved at a snail’s pace. Some drivers were incredibly careful and courteous, and some were incredibly rude. They wound up