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I know you.The thought ran through her head, but she couldn’t place him.
“You’re Kristi Bentz.” Not a question. For a moment she thought he might have recognized her—she’d been in the paper often enough and her picture was on the jacket of some of her books—then realized he guessed her identity because her name was etched on Dave’s collar.
“Right. And you’re—?”
“Doesn’t matter.” The barest hint of a smile, just a fleeting slash of white in his dark jaw. “Just a guy who found your dog.” She couldn’t tell because of the glasses, but she got the impression he actually winked at her. “So—you got this now and I gotta run.”
“Wait,” she said, but he’d already turned and was jogging away. “Your belt—”
“Got another one!” he called over his shoulder, then disappeared behind a thicket. She was left holding on to the belt buckle while staring after him. “Weird,” she said under her breath, then noticed a woman in running gear backing away from her and she realized she looked like an escapee from a mental ward in her bare feet, flimsy robe, and holding on to a muddy dog by a belt.
“Let’s go,” she said to the dog, and began tugging on the makeshift leash. Dave happily trotted beside her as she picked up her pace and retraced her steps back to the house, all the while ignoring the stares she received from passersby, people in cars who gawked, or pedestrians giving her wide berth. Two teenaged boys, roaring by in a pickup raised high overhead, actually honked at her, waved and laughed.
Oh, get over it. This is New Orleans. There is no weird. Anything goes.
Or so she told herself as she reached her house and saw that her side gate was still hanging open. Probably the slider, too. Again, she thought of her new little kitten. “Lenore,” she whispered, worried sick as she jogged across the lawn, grass bending under her feet, to stop and latch the gate behind her. If she lost the cat, too . . .No! No! No!She couldn’t bear it.
The slider door off the kitchen was closed.
Kristi stopped dead in her tracks.
She’d left it open, hadn’t she?
She’d hit the alarm, shutting it off, then flown out of the house after the dog and hadn’t even thought about closing the door.
Yet it was.
The back of her arms goose-pimpled.
Who had closed the door?
And was that person still inside?
She wished she had her phone and thought for a second of going to a neighbor’s, then considered the state of her undress and walked to the door and slid it open. Unlocked. “You stay,” she said to the dog, who was wiggling to get inside. “In a sec.” Then she stepped into the kitchen and, spying the kitchen knives on a metal strip over the stove, she tiptoed to the range and pulled out the butcher knife. Then she paused. Barely daring to breathe, she didn’t bother with any lights, but swept her gaze through the adjoining rooms.
Nothing.
Everything appeared just as she’d left it.
The house was quiet.
Still.
Dave was wriggling near the door, ready to bolt inside. And wouldn’t that be best? The dog able to sniff out anyone—
She paused, realizing what seemed off. Everything was too quiet. While she heard a bit of exterior noise, traffic, a lawnmower several houses down, further away sounds of construction workers and equipment, inside there was not a sound.
Not even the hum of the refrigerator.
Her stomach tightened again, and motioning to the dog, they slowly made their way through the dining area and living room, entry hall and Jay’s study. One hand on the stranger’s belt that was now Dave’s leash, the other holding the knife in a death grip.
Her bedroom door was slightly ajar and she thought she’d left it that way. She stepped through, Dave gave off a sharp bark, and something brushed against her ankle. She jumped, her pulse skyrocketing as she spied the kitten, backing up and hissing.
“Oh, Jesus, you scared me,” Kristi said, and picked up the fluff of fur as her gaze swept the room. She grabbed her phone off its charger and slipped it into her pocket. “Come on,” she whispered to Lenore, and unhooked the belt from Dave’s collar. The house was empty. No one had intruded. The cat and dog and she were all safe.
“Then why was the slider shut?” Jay’s voice, which had been a few days silent, was suddenly back.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Not now, Jay.” Then she caught herself, talking out loud to her dead husband. She really was going nuts. “Pull yourself together!” she whispered, then cringed. Now she was talking to herself!
