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“Thanks a bunch,” Theodosia said. She crossed the lobby and began her climb with Earl Grey in tow. Like many of the B and Bs in Charleston, the Saracen Inn had once been a private home. And even though it was now a commercial venture, it retained much of the charm from its former glory days. Old photos of previous owners and watercolor sketches of surrounding homes and pocket parks hung in the stairwell. Each landing had a small desk with a Tiffany-style lamp, chair, and writing materials. Oriental carpets led down the hallways.
Unfortunately, the overhead lighting was relatively dim. Theodosia didn’t know if the lighting was always this dreary or if the lights had been purposefully turned down because it was almost ten o’clock.
She’d just hit the final staircase leading to the fourth floor when the lights flickered, the stairwell went completely dark for a few moments, then the lights flared back on again. But this time there was barely a faint glow.
Doggone. Hard to see where I’m going.
Up to now, all the stairs had been carpeted, but the stairs leading to the fourth floor were highly polished wood, which gave Earl Grey some trouble with his footing.
“Come on, boy. You can make it,” Theodosia urged. She turned to check on her dog’s progress and make another encouraging sound. But when she turned back, quick as a vampire in a shock-a-rama movie, a dark shadow rose up in front of her!
“What…?” Theodosia gasped.
She was even more stunned when strong hands reached out and grabbed her around the neck and began to pinch her throat. Panicked, she tried to twist out of her attacker’s grasp. But her right foot slipped and she went down hard on one knee, giving her attacker the upper hand.
Scared out of her mind, frantic beyond belief, Theodosia tried to scream. But all that came out of her mouth was a dry croak.
As his hands squeezed harder, Theodosia released Earl Grey’s leash and fought blindly to strike out and push her assailant away. Even though it was too dark to see his face, she battered at his chest with all her might. But he continued grappling with her, pinching off her air supply as he bent her over backward. Theodosia tried her best to grab a gulp of air as she thrashed about, but the man—she assumed it was a man because of the brute strength—continued to increase the pressure against her windpipe.
Time seemed to stand still for Theodosia. Her vision began to narrow, first to a cone, then to a pinpoint, while bright sparks buzzed like angry hornets inside her head. She was distantly aware of Earl Grey’s frantic barking and his toenails skittering and scrabbling hard against wood, fighting to find purchase. And then, just when Theodosia thought she couldn’t hang on any longer, she felt Earl Grey’s furry body streak past, hitting her hard, almost shoving her out of the way, as her dog made a flying leap at her assailant.
14
Theodosia was aware of frantic barking and loud cries as a wild melee broke out around her. There were thuds, bumps, snarls, and, most of all, a string of curses. Then, as if by magic, the man’s hands slipped from her neck.
The death grip was gone and she could finally breathe!
But Theodosia’s victory was short lived. In her oxygen-deprived state, she stumbled and lost her balance. Then, to her horror, began to topple over backward, knowing there was nothing behind her but thin air.
Theodosia flung her arms out to her sides as she fell, trying to grab a hand railing but missing by a mile. She skidded down a few steps, then spun around and ended up crashing down onto her right side. There was sharp pain upon impact and then she was helplessly, hopelessly sliding down a half dozen highly polished wooden steps. Bump, bump, bumping her way to the landing below as Earl Grey tumbled down after her. Seconds later, they both ended up in an ungainly sprawl.
“Earl Grey!” Theodosia cried. Her first fear was that her dog was badly injured. But Earl Grey immediately sprang to his feet, looked around, and shook himself, head to tail, doing a kind of doggy reset.
I just hope I can do the same.
Theodosia grabbed onto her dog’s collar for support, pulled herself up gingerly, all the while trying to sort out exactly what had happened.
That’s when a door at the top of the stairs opened with a loud BANG and a shaft of light filtered down. Theodosia looked up, fearing a second attack. But all she saw was Andrea Blair standing there in a long white robe, holding a brass candlestick over her head.
“What’s going on?” Andrea shouted. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Theodosia,” she said in a half croak. “Somebody just tried to choke me to death, then shoved me down the stairs!” She felt shaky and lightheaded as she tried to recover from her attack. Her heart was practically slamming out of her chest, while her knee throbbed and her ankle burned. Gingerly, she climbed the steps to the fourth floor as she fought to process what had just happened. Somebody—someone strong—had grabbed her by the throat—and what? Tried to kill her?
How does that compute?
“What’d you say?” Andrea’s eyes were dark pools of uncertainty and she looked frightened to death.
Theodosia fought to explain. “It was dark—it’s still dark—and then I saw a shadow.” She reached up and touched her neck. “Somebody lunged out of the dark and started to choke me.”
“What?” Andrea said again.
“They choked me and shoved me down the steps.” Theodosia slid a hand down to her leg. “Made me bang my knee and twist my ankle.” She gazed at Andrea. “Do you know who was lurking outside your room? Did you see who it was?”
Andrea didn’t answer her question. Just stared at her, mouth open and the candlestick still wavering above her head. The girl wasn’t just scared, she was shaking like a Chihuahua in a snowstorm.
“Were you the one who tried to pry open my door?” Andrea finally asked in quavering tones.
“Of course not,” Theodosia snapped back. “Didn’t you just hear what I said? I got shoved down the stairs before I even got to your floor. So I need to know, did you hear somebody outside your room? Creeping around?”
