No Sanctuary by Richard Laymon Read Free Book Online

there to prevent the door from being opened. She inspected the inside handle. It was one of those with a simple lever. A downward flick would disengage the lock.
    With the flashlight clamped between her teeth, Gillian started to work. An open square of duct tape on the glass in front of the lock lever. A circle of tape stuck to the center for use as a handle. A careful line with her glass cutter along an inside border of the tape. Three more slices through the glass, completing the square. A few gentle taps at the edges. Finally, a pull at the tape in the center. The square of glass came out.
    A cinch, Gillian thought.
    She set the small section of glass on the table.
    Reaching through the opening, she lowered the lock lever. She removed her hand and pulled the aluminum handle. The door slid open with a low, quiet rumble.
    Gillian left her leather case on the table. She entered the house. The warm air had a closed-in, stuffy heaviness; one more indication that nobody was home.
    Shining the flashlight around, she saw that she was in a den or recreation room. It had a couch, a couple of easy chairs, lamps and tables, a television with a large screen and VCR, a stereo, bookshelves along the wall in front of her and a built-in bar at the other end of the room. The floor was hardwood.
    Very nice, Gillian thought.
    Especially the bar and the VCR.
    Pointing her flashlight at the bookshelves, she found that the owner had an extensive collection of tapes for the video recorder.
    Gillian turned around and went through a doorway. Ahead was the dining room. To the right was another entryway. She stepped through it and found herself in the kitchen. After a quick look around, she backtracked, passed the door leading into the den, and entered a hallway on the left. A short distance down the hallway, she came to a wide arch that opened onto the living room. She switched off the flashlight. Then she peered around the corner of the arch. Satisfied that the room was deserted, she continued her search.
    Just beyond the arch, she found a closet, then a bathroom. Farther down the hall, on the left, was a small room with exercise equipment. Squinting into the darkness, she saw a Nautilus, treadmill, rowing machine and weights, a mat on the floor and a wall of mirrors.
    Then she came to the bedroom. Standing close to the open door, her back pressed to the wall, she held her breath and listened. No sounds came from the room. She wiped her sweaty hands on her shorts. Flashlight still off, she stepped away from the wall and moved in front of the doorway.
    In spite of the closed curtains, the room had a dim gray glow. Gillian peered at the bed. Its cover was flat except for the bulge of pillows near the headboard.
    That’s that, she thought.
    Suddenly exhausted, she sagged against the doorframe.
    End of Phase One, she told herself. You’re safely in and nobody’s here.
    Of course, someone could be here, hiding. It was unlikely, though. So unlikely that it wasn’t even worth worrying about.
    Even if all the other indications were misleading, the stuffy air of the closed-up house was sure proof.
    After a while, Gillian thrust herself away from the doorframe and walked toward the bed. She turned on her flashlight. Though it was aimed at the king-sized bed, a bright beam streaked across the ceiling.
    She flinched and looked up.
    Mirrors. Mirrors on the ceiling above the bed.
    Well now, Gillian thought. Whoever lives here must be quite a sport.
    Turning around, she found the light beam ricocheting off mirrors on the wall. Even the shut door of the closet had them.
    Grinning, Gillian went to the bed, sat on it, and gasped as she sank into the mattress. Waves rolled back against her rump.
    A water bed!
    This is going to be terrific.
    She flopped down on the undulating softness, felt herself rise and fall on the gently moving surface, stared up at her reflection in the mirrors.
    She’d been in a few houses with water beds but none with mirrors like this. It