breath, releasing the knob ever so slowly. The snick of the lock sounded ridiculously loud.
In two steps she was at the phone, and in less than a minute she’d dialed 911. Adam’s voice, crisp and professional, took her aback for an instant, but of course it was Sunday. Probably the only reason the dispatcher had been there earlier was because of the current investigation.
“Adam, it’s Libby.” She kept her voice barely above the whisper. Whoever was in the house knew now that she was there, but maybe not exactly where. “Someone’s in the house.”
He didn’t waste time questioning how she knew. “Where are you?”
The wail of a siren punctuated his words. He was in the police car, then. With luck, not clear at the other end of the township.
“Locked in my bedroom. He’s downstairs.”
“Shove something in front of the door, and don’t come out until I tell you to. Understand?”
She’d resent his tone, but at the moment she was too eager to see him. “Yes. I understand.”
“Keep the phone line open.”
He didn’t need to tell her that twice. She set it down long enough to shove the dresser across the door. Then she leaned over the dresser, trying to listen over the thudding of her heart.
Nothing. Or at least, nothing she could hear. A smart burglar would get out quickly once he realized someone was in the house. Maybe he was gone already.
Or maybe not. She had no desire to find out. She sat on the edge of the bed, the phone cradled in her hands, and waited.
The sound of the siren was suddenly coming both from the phone and from outside. She reached the window in time to see the police car skid to a stop, gravel spraying. Adam got out, and just the sight of his tall figure was enough to make her stomach do a flip.
Going to the dresser, she put her hands on it to push it back into place, then thought the better of it. She’d wait until she heard Adam’s voice first.
She heard the front door open, then the sound of footsteps moving through the downstairs. She waited, and it felt like forever.
Finally the footsteps came up the stairs. “Nobody here now. You can come out.”
She slid the dresser back, unlocked the door and opened it.
Adam lifted an eyebrow, and she realized how she must look—wet hair, damp robe, bare feet, her face bare of makeup.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, trying to hang on to whatever shreds of dignity she had left. “Did he take anything?” She had a sudden vision of her mother’s sterling silver gone while she was cowering in her room. “Maybe I should have—”
“You did exactly the right thing,” he said, his tone repressive. “I suppose you think it would have been better to go after him armed with a tennis racket.”
“My mother would have.” She could picture it perfectly.
“I love your mother dearly, but common sense is not her strong suit.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Come on. Let’s see if anything’s missing before I launch a full investigation.”
She slanted a sideways glance at him as they went down the stairs side by side. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”
“I wasn’t far away.” His gaze was fixed on the front door, not on her. “That door was unlocked. Did you leave it that way?”
“Mom had left it unlocked when she went to the hospital.”
“So you decided to do the same? I thought you big-city types were safety conscious.”
She clenched her teeth for an instant. “I intended to talk to her about it when she came in, but I didn’t want to lock her out, in case she hadn’t taken her keys.”
“There’s one under the third flowerpot on the left.”
At her surprised glance, he shrugged.
“She told me, in case I ever needed to get in. She’s probably told about half the township for one reason or another.”
That was her mother, all right. “If I knew, I’d forgotten. And since I was going in the shower, I might not have heard her when she came back.”
“So I see.” He glanced at her robe, and she had a feeling
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