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“Ranger is on his way,” Calvin said. “Would you like us to clear your apartment of the…clown?”
I peeked into my apartment. No clown in sight.
“The clown has probably left,” I said, “but it would be great if you’d take a look around.”
They both drew their sidearms and moved into my apartment. I followed them in and checked to make sure Rex was unharmed. I didn’t care what else happened to my apartment as long as Rex was okay.
They moved through the dining area, the living room, the bedroom, and the bath. It didn’t take long.
“We didn’t see any clowns,” Calvin said, coming back to the kitchen. “Your bedroom window was open, and I noticed you have a fire escape balcony and ladder. The clown might have left through the window.”
“As long as it’s gone,” I said. “I appreciate that you got here so quickly. The clown was scary.”
“We’ll wait outside your door until Ranger gets here,” Calvin said. “If the clown returns just yell. And for what it’s worth, I’m not crazy about clowns either.”
I left the door open and started coffee brewing. The panic was beginning to leave me, but I was shaky from adrenaline letdown. I put my hands to the counter and told myself to breathe. You’re good, I thought. You’re not dead or hurt or anything. Ranger will be here soon, and he’ll take you out to breakfast. Think about that. Pancakes and bacon. Hash browns. Scrambled eggs. Real maple syrup on the pancakes. I was still shaking. Adrenaline, I told myself. It’ll burn off. Hang on.
Rex came out of his can and looked at me, whiskers twitching.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m fine.”
Rex thought about it and went back into his can.
Animals have instincts, I thought. They know when people are okay. Rex decided I was okay, so I must be okay.
I heard the guys in the hall shuffle around, and I knew Ranger was there. Not that I needed him, because I was okay, but still it would be nice to see him.
He came into the apartment and closed the door behind him, and I burst into tears.
“Babe,” he said.
He wrapped me in his arms, put his face against mine, and kissed my neck. I was sobbing and sniffling and felt like an idiot.
“It’s the adrenaline,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Just breathe. It’s okay now. You aren’t hurt, right?”
“Right.”
“My men tell me your apartment is clean.”
“Right.”
His hand was on my wrist, and I realized he was taking my pulse.
“How am I doing?” I asked him.
“You’ll live. I wish I could get your heartbeat up this high.”
I relaxed into him. “Morelli left at five, and I fell back to sleep. I’m not sure why I woke up. I guess I sensed something was wrong. I heard the rustle of cloth and a footstep, and I knew someone was in my room and it wasn’t you or Morelli. He came at me and it’s all a jumble after that. He had a knife. I hit him in the face with the lamp on the nightstand. He was close. He had his hands on my neck, and I could see that it was the clown. I could smell him. I could feel his breath on my face. I kicked out and was able to get away and run. I ran up to Mrs. Delgado.”
“She’s the one with the cat,” Ranger said.
“Yes. I can’t believe you remember that.”
He had me cuddled close, and he felt warm and strong and safe.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I was scared, but I feel better now.”
