Red Silk Scarf by Elizabeth Lowe Read Free Book Online

was
positive, wasn't she?   Dear God, had one
night on L.A.'s streets given her Alzheimer’s, for goodness sake?  

 
    Peculiar feelings
nipping at her stomach and honing her senses jarred instincts.   Something moved.   Ridiculous, she silently upbraided
herself.   Fighting off the resulting
uneasiness, confidently erect, she extended her arms easing forward feeling her
way through vacant space.   Fleeting
seconds of terror prompting rarely entertained panic twitched nerve endings
before her fingertips collided with the wall.   Bravely rebelling, hands lowered searching for the lamp she felt certain
was near.   Even with fingers stretched to
the max, arm's swishing back and forth, there was nothing?   The “Nothing” scared the hell out of her.

 
    Insecurity
invading with a gush increasing body temperature knotted a multitude of
muscles.   Toes colliding with the corner
of the couch brought her teeth on a collision course with her bottom lip.   “Dammit,” never again would she be so
neglectful, a promise made seconds before fingertips glazed a smooth wooden surface.

 
    Until relief’s
quick intake of air widened her nostrils, Cassidy wasn’t aware of holding her
breath so sensitive were the membranes detecting cigarette smoke.   How was that possible when she detested the
habit?   Looney, that's all there was to
it, she grumbled.   Darkness played cruel
tricks, conjured up all kinds of boogiemen.   For heaven’s sake, she was not a child.   She had lived alone for years.

 
    Boogieman,
hell!   The sound of shoes scuffing the
carpet was as real as her heart changing rhythm.   A swift reflex shot a hand forward that managed
to grope the lamp before it toppled over.   With a flick of her fingers, the room took on life, in the truest sense
of the word.   A reflection on the wall
revealed a hand preparing to rob her surprised scream.  

 
    Black eyes fully
alert spoke the words flashing across her mind, “Serial Killer.”   Certainly, her ribs separated from the force
of her heart ricocheting and crashing into her lungs.   A moan escaped between the cracks of fingers
sealing her lips.   Fight or die
discharged adrenaline to what another might consider fragile hands that reached
up and grabbed the arms resting heavily on her shoulder, sufficient
fortification that flipped the silhouette over her back.   With a thud and a grunt, a body twice her size
laid at her feet.   Before the intruder
caught his breath, reaching between the cushions of the couch, Cassidy
retrieved a loaded gun, cocked and aimed.

 
                Clad in a dark suit, the figure
slowly stood, turned and faced her.   “Not
bad.   Not bad at all, impressive,
actually.”  

 
    Eyes flared with
disbelief, she screamed, “Son of a bitch, Dan!   I almost fired.   What, in hell,
prompted you to do something so stupid?”   Despite shouting, and the shaking of her body, both hand's held
steadfast the gun aimed at his heart.

 
    Knowing Cassidy
was an expert sharpshooter, raising his hands in surrender, Dan said with
authority, “Now Casey, baby, put that damn thing down before it goes off.   Let me explain.”   While piercing light brown eyes nailed
Cassidy, the six-foot frame slowly advancing brought her commanding officer
close enough to retrieve the weapon.   It
was his hand remaining on hers longer than necessary raking her nerves.   Whether from lethargy brought about by fright
or the anticipation of what was next, her body came none too gently to a
cushion of the couch.

 
    Standing tall and
proud in front of her, he lectured, “We've gone over this a thousand
times.   You can't be too careful.   You should have remembered you left the
lights on and noticed they were off before entering the apartment.   Stupid mistakes will get you killed.”  

 
    Dan was pacing in
front of Cassidy, his hands waving the air with a language all their own.   “I made it clear to everyone I