TOMMY
once.
My eyes fluttered open. I was still in the recliner in the living room. I must have fallen asleep during the ten o’clock news. A quilt lay over me, a fresh glass of water sat on the end table, and my phone was plugged in to charge—all Nancy’s doing, no doubt.
After she’d dropped the glass earlier, she’d apologized and cleaned up, chattering about poor Roland and how terrible it must be to live alone in that vast house.
Wade had passed wordlessly into the kitchen to eat his dinner, and never commented. Well, the man was exhausted. I’m sure being accused of murder—when finding the murderer consumed his every waking moment—was the last thing he needed.
And so the rest of the evening had passed in awkward silence.
I looked to the mantle clock. Half past eleven. What had woken me up? I didn’t think it was the clock itself. Granted, I hadn’t been sleeping very deeply lately. My subconscious seemed determined to keep one eye open.
I scanned the room, my eyes traveling between the pools of darkness in the room and the windows overlooking the street. There were plenty of shadows for my imagination to play in. But nothing moved. My gaze shifted to the spindled oak railing, the hardwood stairs down to the split-level foyer, and the front door. It had no window, but the sidelights glowed softly, illuminated by the streetlights beyond. The swirled stained glass muted the view of the small front porch and the yard beyond.
I made out the shadow of a man crouching by the door.
My heart leapt into my throat. A voice rang through my ears.
“IF you live, I’ll see you later. But I promise you this: YOU won’t see ME.”
A hand touched my shoulder. I startled so hard, I nearly shouted. Wade appeared from behind my recliner. My eyes went to the gun in his hand and my heart nearly stopped beating.
But his eyes were focused across the room. I followed his gaze to the door.
The shadow was gone. I frowned. Had I only imagined it?
“Stay here,” Wade whispered. As if I were capable of going far on my own.
Without a sound, he moved to the door, turned the lock, and slipped outside. I was relieved to hear the lock snick shut behind him. His shadow passed the sidelight, then vanished.
I strained my ears, not sure what I was expecting—a shout, a scuffle, Wade’s gun going off. But minutes dragged by, and all I heard was the beating of my own heart and the ticking of the mantle clock.