Red Silk Scarf by Elizabeth Lowe Read Free Book Online Page B

forehead.   “Whatever you say, my love, but I'm warning you, Casey, you're up to
your neck.   What you have going on in
that pretty head of yours won't protect you between the legs if the serial
killer gets his hands on you.”   Heated
eyes drifted from hers to the bed and back again.   “If it had been him instead of me tonight,
you'd be on your back, with a scarf around your neck, dead.”      

 
    Reading the Morse
code message stirring brain waves in Dan's skull, Cassidy wondered if she would
have the strength to fight him.   Amazingly, an unnecessary effort, for his retreat left her standing as
lifeless as a picture on the wall.   Cringing from the thoughts of lying beneath him she glanced at the bed
that seemed to consume the room.    God
what she wouldn’t give to slug the bastard?   

 
    Upbraiding
herself, for goodness sake Dan was the least of her worries.   All she needed was a long hot shower, an ice
cold drink, Tylenol and sleep.   Just in
case, Cassidy placed the gun beneath her pillow and the pager on the
nightstand.
                             
               
    CHAPTER 7

 
               

 
    Invading the
cramped space echoing therapeutic streams of hot liquid battering cold tile
walls claimed a new personification as swirling vapors.   On the toilet, tank a warm, half-consumed
beverage alongside an opened bottle of pain reliever.   Barely visible through the shower curtain
Cassidy’s silhouette was leaning against the wall lost in the sensation of the
soothing spray.   

 
    No energy
remained until a queer sensation signaling that something was, dreadfully wrong
straightened her spine and alerted defense mechanisms.   A quick twist of fingers ceased the water.  
    Deadly
quiet reigned.  

 
    Body stiff, mind
reeling, with hearing mechanisms on full alert she listened intently.   “Don't forget to lock and chain the door,”
Dan commanded before leaving, his characteristics fanatical.

 
    Dammit, did she
forget?   He did leave, didn't he?    No one would be crazy enough to break into a
sixth floor window facing the street.   However reassuring the reflections should have been, Cassidy began
trembling.  

 
    The bathroom door
creaked, she was positive.   A door she
was certain she closed the one and only exit offering escape, and the chance to
reach the pager neglectfully left on the nightstand.   Fraught eyes flicked wildly as unsettling
premonitions brought reality squealing to the forefront.   Trapped, naked, lacking a weapon, the odds of
survival was substantially against her.

 
    Means of defense
screaming to the forefront somewhat relieved the tension when she recalled
placing the razor on the nearby sink after shaving her legs, if fingers
slipping past the curtain could reach the blade, at least there was a slight
possibility of protection, she reasoned.   All at once, her body began melting into the crevice of the corner.   The dimly lit room, as well as the thick veil
of steam hindering visibility through the shower curtain was tipping the scale
against her.    

 
    If anyone
witnessed her behavior they'd never believe the impossible situations she'd
overcome during her career.   What
happened to her bravery?   Was the
combination of an unfamiliar apartment, strange city and serial killer
destroying her confidence?   The size of
an assailant didn’t matter, her instructor drilled.   Surprise was the best weapon.   All she needed was to find the strength to
rip back the curtain and lash out at the intruder.   Strength hell, there was none left.       

 
    Enough screamed
inner adrenaline sufficiently fortifying to rip aside the curtain.   A huge sigh of exasperation filled with
relief followed.   Held captive within the
Closter phobic confines her overly stimulated imagination had gone rampant.

 
    Incidents that made
her admit it wasn’t the massaging spray to blame for carrying her