I stared at his leather jacket. How could I get that off of him without him overpowering me?
"You could also lose the mask," he said. "There's no reason to hide your beautiful face anymore."
My fingers gripped the handrail. He remembers.
He stared at me.
I stared back.
He slowly raised his left eyebrow, somehow causing me to blink. He'd won the staring contest. He'd won the game. I gave him all the power. He knew about the missing money. About Sophia. About Dr. Collins. He knew me. He'd even met my dog. Shit. "Come on, Snuggle Muffins."
He whimpered as he looked up the stairs.
I followed his gaze. You're not too depressed to climb up stairs. "Come."
Snuggle Muffins plopped down on the floor, rolling onto his back. His tongue fell out the side of his mouth.
Was he playing dead? I looked back at the stairs. I guess the distance was a little intimidating for such a small creature. "Just this once," I said under my breath and lifted him up.
"See you in a few minutes, sweetheart!" he called behind me.
I slammed the door closed and secured the deadbolt.
"Shit!" I tore the mask from my face and threw my wig down onto the counter. "What the hell did you do?" I said to Snuggle Muffins.
He sighed and sat down next to my feet.
"This is your fault. You distracted me by eating that Pop-Tart."
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to ease a headache coming on. I'd promised to bring down a drink. And I had a clever idea to give him all the alcohol so he'd get loose lips. But now I was more concerned that I'd get the loose lips.
My doorbell rang, causing me and Snuggle Muffins to both jump.
Who could that be? Detective Torres had said he wouldn't be back in town unti
l tomorrow. I shoved my mask and wig into a drawer just in case it was Detective Torres. He'd surely demand to come in my house now. Maybe he set me up this morning with his Canada trip lies to lull me into a false sense of security. That's what a good detective would do.
I went to the front door the long way, through the dining room, so I could peer out the curtains.
My neighbor Charlotte was standing there with a casserole dish and a fake smile. The housewives in my neighborhood all seemed to be friends. Minus me. I'd tried to be part of their inner circle when my husband and I first moved in. But they were catty. I wasn't blonde. I preferred flats over heels. I didn't like to gossip and go on walks, shoving my nose into other peoples' business. And yet...I wanted to be one of them. But today wasn’t a good day for it to happen.
I watched Charlotte press the doorbell again.
Under no circumstances could I open the door. So why were my feet inching toward the foyer? Why did I still care about her acceptance? My hand froze on the doorknob. This was a bad idea. She'd ask too many questions. And she might...
A muffled cry for help came from the basement.
No. I'd forgotten to put the gag back in his mouth.
He yelled again.
I had to answer the door now. I had to explain the noise away. But my hand stayed frozen on the doorknob. How? How could I possibly explain a man yelling for help in my basement? Screw me.
Chapter 10
Saturday
I grabbed Snuggle Muffins, who had followed me out into the foyer. I was glad he'd disobeyed a direct order to stay in the kitchen. I used him like a shield as I opened the door, stepped outside, and closed the door behind me. "Hi, Charlotte!" My voice sounded too cheery. Too high. Too fake. But Charlotte knew all about being fake. Why the hell else was she here?