Chapter 18

Enid Carmichael could tell the man was up to no good. She had a fine view of him from her apartment facing the street. She knew from experimenting herself that he could not see her standing in the dark apartment. The bright sunshine outside was in her favor as well. He would not be able to see her even if he stared directly into her window. Even if she turned on some lights. Which she did not intend to do.

She’d seen him earlier that morning and now he was back, ambling up and down the sidewalk, clearly staring at their apartment building. He had nowhere to hide on the cement sidewalk, this being San Francisco. No trees or other form of plant life blocked her view on their street. Which was just as well.

She might worry he was casing the joint, except he didn’t look like a burglar. They usually wore dark clothes and knit caps. Maybe a mask. Ha! Burglars didn’t wear masks. She knew that. Only on the covers of those detective magazines she used to read years ago. She had enjoyed those. Why had they stopped printing them? Why had they stopped printing everything she used to enjoy?

Anyway, this man wasn’t a burglar. He wore a suit despite the warm day. His face was clearly visible, and his curly hair wasn’t hidden under a cap, so she would be able to identify him if called upon.

The front door of the building opened with a squeak, and the man jumped. He stood so still she thought he might think he was invisible. But she could see him.

Not Jonathan Martin, the lawyer, though. Jonathan walked off without glancing the man’s way.

Mrs. Carmichael surveyed the street, squinting in the sun. Oh, my God, what was that? A bear! An enormous black bear wandered down the street, heading for her bad guy. Bad Guy faced away, couldn’t see the danger. The bear’s back end rolled side to side as he picked up speed.

She fumbled with the window latch and got her window open. She had to warn him he was about to be eaten. She wanted some action, but she did not want body parts.

A whistle stopped the bear in its tracks. Bad Guy whipped around. The bear sat on its rump. Mrs. Carmichael squinted again. What kind of bear was this? A trained circus animal? Was there even such a thing anymore?

A young woman approached the bear from one direction and Bad Guy approached from the other. He was brave, she’d give him that.

With the window open and with her superior hearing, Mrs. Carmichael heard every word they said.

“Sorry. He got away from me there.” The woman snapped a leash on the beast.

“First Newfoundland I’ve seen in the city,” the man said.

“Such a hot day for him.” The dog shook his head and drool and slobber flew.

Fancy Bad Guy Man looked at his suit.

“Sorry,” the woman said.

“Good looking Newfie.” He patted the dog’s head and was rewarded with more slobber.

“Thanks.” She pulled the giant animal in the other direction.

A dog. This creature was a dog. What if her Snowball encountered this brute? Better be on the lookout next time they went out for a poopie.

Fancy Bad Guy Man wiped his wet jacket with his clean hand and tried to shake off the viscous drool. He ended up rubbing his hands on the bricks of a building. Then he resumed his slow walk, eyes back on her building.

What was he up to?

Well, Mrs. Carmichael could stand there all day waiting to find out. She didn’t have anything else to do, after all.

In fact, she needn’t stand. She pulled over a chair that came in handy for this very purpose and settled in expectantly.