Silence pressed against the door.
Selena waited.
When Marlene answered, her voice had changed.Smaller now.Frightened.“Oh.”
“We need to talk about it.”
“I can explain.”
“Then open the door.”
“Please, give me a second.”
“All right.”
Selena stepped back half a pace and looked at the front window.No movement behind the curtains.No sound from inside beyond something faint, perhaps a drawer or a footstep.
Seconds passed.
“Marlene?”
No reply.
Selena moved closer to the door.“Marlene, open the door.”
Nothing.
Her hand went to the knob just as Marlene called from farther inside.“The door’s open.”
Selena did not like that.
The knob turned under her hand.The door eased inward.Cool air drifted out from the hall, carrying furniture polish, old food, and the stale closed-house scent of rooms that had held grief for too many hours.
“Marlene?”
No reply came.Selena could feel it in the atmosphere.The silence inside had grown denser.Selena keyed the radio.“Raven at the Schmidt house.Marlene may be attempting to flee.I’m going in.”
She drew her gun and hoped that Marlene would not do anything to make her have to use it.
Selena stepped inside.The hallway opened toward the living room on the left.A family photograph hung on the wall, Victor and Marlene with three children between them, all five smiling in matching blue shirts.
The living room was beyond the corner.
Selena took one step into the opening.
A hard blow struck the side of her head.
Light burst across her vision.Her knees gave way.The floor came up fast, carpet scraping one cheek as she hit and rolled against the base of the couch.
For a second, the sound went distant.A door banged somewhere.Footsteps thudded away.
Selena blinked, trying to make the room stop tilting.
Her hand found the grip of her gun before her sight had fully cleared.Training carried her where thought lagged behind.She drew, pushed herself onto one knee, then forced herself upright.
Pain opened across the back of her skull in a hot, sickening pulse.
“Marlene!”
