Maybe he'd grab that modified shotgun at The Swan and take it along. Then he remembered he was hot and wanted to close the window. He sat up, yawning loudly, and swung his legs over the side. His feet got tangled up in the sheet when he stood. He stumbled, slammed his bad knee into the bedside table, the round brass knob striking that oh-so-tender spot just below his
kneecap where he was sure every nerve in his body converged, sending excruciating pain rocketing down his leg. It burne
d like acid. Muttering an expletive, he sat down hard on the bed and rubbed his knee.
'Theo, are you all right?' Her voice was a sleepy whisper.
'Yeah, I'm okay. I hit my knee on the table. You left the window open.'
She pushed the sheet back. 'I'll close it.'
He gently pushed her down. 'Go back to sleep. I'll get it.'
She didn't argue. While he sat there rubbing the sting out of his knee, he listened to her deep, even breathing. How could anyone fell asleep that quickly? Then he thought that maybe she was exhausted because he'd worn her out making love, and he felt a
little better. With a wry smile, he admitted to himself how arrogant that thought was.
He got up and limped to the window. He was pushing it down when lightning lit up the night, and he saw a man darting across
the road into Michelle's front yard.
What the hell? Had he just seen what he thought he'd seen, or had he imagined it? Thunder rumbled, then another bolt of lightning flashed and he saw the man again, crouching down by the sycamore tree.
He also saw the gun. Theo was already moving back when the shot rang out. The bullet pierced the glass, shattering it as Theo turned and dove for cover. Pain cut through his upper arm, and he thought he might have been shot. He hit the bed, grabbed Michelle as she bolted upright, and rolled with her in his arms to the floor, trying his damnedest to protect her head from striking wood. Pain shot through his arm again as he rolled off her and sprang to his feet, knocking the bedside lamp to the floor in his haste.
'Theo, what-'
'Stay down,' he ordered. 'And don't turn the lights on.'
She was trying to comprehend what was happening. 'Did lightning strike the house?
'That was a gunshot. Someone just took a shot at me through the window.'
He was up and running. If he had let Michelle go to the window, she could have been killed. It was just a piece of luck that he happened to be looking down when the sky lit up.
Sprinting toward the guest room, he shouted, 'Call the police and get dressed. We've got to get out of here.'
Michelle had already grabbed the phone and pulled it down next to her. She dialed 911, then put the receiver to her ear and realized the phone was dead. She didn't panic. She dropped the phone, reached for her clothes on the bureau, and ran into the hall.
'The phone's dead,' she yelled. 'Theo, what's happening?'
'Get dressed,' he repeated. 'Hurry.'
He had his gun and was pressed against the wall next to the window. He sure as hell wasn't going to give the bastard an easy target this time. Edging the drapes back with the barrel of the gun, he squinted into the darkness. Another shot rang out just as
the sky opened and the rain began. He saw a burst of red as the bullet left the chamber. He pulled back. He stood there,
straining to hear every little sound, praying that lightning would strike again and he could see if there were any others lurking out there. Was there just one man? God, he hoped so. If he could get one clear shot, maybe he could nail the bastard. He'd never killed anyone, never even fired the gun except in target practice, but he wasn't feeling at all shy about taking this man out.
Five seconds passed, then five more. Lightning split the sky open then, and for a heartbeat, it was as bright and clear as day.
'Hell,' Theo muttered when he saw another figure darting across the road.
Michelle was in the bathroom dressing by the soft glow of the nightlight in the hall. She was shoving her feet into her tennis
shoes when the nightlight went out. The bulb was too new to have burned out. Racing back into her bedroom, she saw that the clock radio dial was also dark. Either lightning had struck a power line, or someone had cut the power feeding her house. She opted for the second bleak possibility.
It was so dark without the nightlight, she couldn't see anything. The linen closet was right outside the guest room. She felt around for the handle, got the door open, and reached up on the top shelf for her flashlight. She knocked over a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a box of Band-Aids. The bottle landed hard on her instep. She kicked it into the closet to get it out of her way, found the flashlight, and then shut the door so she wouldn't bump into it.
There were Band-Aids scattered all over the floor. She slipped on one as she ran into the guest room. 'The phone line's dead
and the electricity's out. Theo, what is going on?'
'There are two men out in front. One's crouched down low by the tree and isn't moving. Grab my cell phone and hand it to me. We've got to get some help.'
She was afraid to turn the flashlight on because the drapes were open, and whoever was outside would see the light, so she felt around on the dresser, her frustration mounting with each second.
'Where is it?' she asked. Then she heard the sound of a motor humming in the distance. She ran to the window facing the
water and saw the light from the boat coming closer and closer to the dock. She couldn't tell how many were in the boat,
couldn't see anything but that shimmering beacon that seemed to pulsate with a life of its own as it grew stronger and stronger.
Theo already had his jeans and shoes on and was pulling a dark T-shirt over his head and trying to keep watch at the window at the same time. Pain shot through his arm when he shoved his hand through the short sleeve, and his skin felt wet and sticky with blood. He touched the injury, felt the jagged piece of glass, and was relieved it wasn't a bullet hole. Wiping his hand on his jeans, he tugged the T-shirt down, then reached up again and plucked the shard of glass out. It burned as if a hot iron were stuck to his skin.
'There's a boat coming toward the dock,' she said. 'They're with the two in front, aren't they?' She felt foolish asking the question. Of course there were more of them. Who among her friends would come visiting in the middle of the night during a torrential storm? 'What do they want?' she whispered.
'We'll ask them later,' he said. 'Where's my phone?' he demanded as he fastened the holster to his jeans, then shoved his gun
into the leather pouch and closed the snap. He'd already figured out their escape route. They'd have to go out the back window, drop down onto the porch roof, and hit the ground running. With any luck, they could get to his car.
'It's not on the dresser,' she said.
'Ah, hell,' he muttered, for he'd suddenly remembered where he'd put it. It was sitting in the charger next to Michelle's on the desk downstairs. 'I plugged it in by your phone.'
'I'll go get it.'
'No,' he said sharply. 'The steps face the back door, and if one of them is waiting there, he'll see you.
'Stay by the window and try to see how many get out of the boat. Has it docked yet?'
Theo kicked the door shut, then shoved the heavy dresser in front of it in hopes of slowing the men down.
'One man just got out of the boat, and he's using a flashlight. He's headed for the backyard… no, he's going around to the
front. I can't tell if there's another one.'
'Open the window,' he said as he picked up his car keys and shoved them into his back pocket. 'We're going out that way.
