She turned on the car phone, then hesitated. If he had a scanner, he could listen to any car phone. He had the Mercedes’s number, why not the Explorer’s? The phone in the house was no good, either, as he had tellingly demonstrated. Suddenly, all the familiar, secure appurtenances of her LIFE were turning on her. Get to a pay phone. Drive to the village of Great Falls and use a pay phone to call Train.
She locked the doors of the Explorer and reached for the garage door’s transmitter before she remembered that she still had no keys. Damn. I have to go into the house. She sighed, unlocked the doors, and got out of the car. She knelt down to look under the garage door again, feeling her right stocking pop a run. Nothing. She reached’back into the car and hit the remote transmitter switch. With much groaning and rattling, the left-side door rose up from the cement floor.
Even though it was dark outside, there was suddenly much more light in the garage. She looked around and saw the handle of the wood-splitting maul Frank had broken and never replaced. She picked it up; then, holding it in both hands, she walked out of the garage and headed for the house. 71be first thing she noticed was that all the house lights were back on. She stopped in front of the house and scanned the windows.
Nothing out of the ordinary. The front door was still open. She looked around the front yard, then climbed the front porch steps as quietly as she could and peered through the living room windows. The fiirnimm she had collided with in her dash for the garage was still overturned on the floor. Hell with it, she thought. I’m going in.
She went through the opened front door, the maul handle ready. She walked quickly through all the rooms on the first floor, through the dining room kitchen, Frank’s study, turning on lights wherever she went and opening closet doors.
She stopped when she got back into the living room. The house felt empty, for whatever that was worth. She reached for the phone, which was on the floor. There was no dial tone. She hung it up and waited a minute, then picked it up again. Dial tone. The numbers-where was the damn card?
There was some scratching and whining at the door, and she went to let Harry in. The dog was a bit wobbly and displaying total embarrassment, his head down and tail plastered between his hind legs.
“It’s okay, Harry. It’s not your fault,” she said, rubbing his head.
“You’re no match for ether.” She locked the front door again and went into the kitchen, the dog glued to her heels. She dropped the maul handle on the kitchen counter and found Train’s card crumpled in her skirt pocket. She reached for the phone again but then thought about it.
Was it tapped? Could he be listening right now? And which number should she call?
She looked at her watch. It was II: 15. From Great Falls to the Beltway was almost ten miles. Another ten around the Beltway to I-95. Aquia was at least twenty miles beyond that. He might not even be home yet. She looked at the numbers. Phone, car phone, and fax.
Fax.
Frank had a fax in the study, on the second house line.
She could send Train a fax, and there was no way he could listen in to that. She hurried to the study.
Train faxed back twenty minutes later: Did she want him to come back and had she called the cops?
I She replied, scribbling furiously with a ballpoint, the maul handle two feet away from her. Said she was pretty sure he was gone, and that no, she had not called the cops.
“Do you have a dog?”
“Yes, but old. Found him unconscious in the barn when it all started.
Ether. He’s back in the house now.”
“If dog can operate, take him through the house to make sure you are alone. Then lock up. I’ll be out there at first light. Don’t call cops unless you think he’s come back. This contact must go direct to Mcnair, not patrol cops. In emergency, use the phone, but assume it’s bugged.
Got a gun?”
Frank kept that huge government-model Colt .45 auto in the safe. She was pretty sure it was still there. But she hadn’t fired one since OCS.
“Yes.” she scribbled back to him. It was slow going, but hopefully secure. She never wanted to pick up a phone and hear that whisper again.
“Get it out. Keep it close. Keep dog close. Barricade bedroom door. I’ll contact Mcnair in the morning.”
She nodded to herself Keeping the dog close would not be a problem.
Harry was lying across her feet, trembling, his fur still reeking of ether.
“Okay. See you in the morning.”
“Hang in there. He was there-to warn you, not hurt you.
You are not the target,” Train replied, and then the fax machine went silent.
Not the target, she thought. Not yet, anyway. She crumpled all the flimsy paper into a trash can and opened up the safe. The big automatic was at the back. There was a full clip in the butt. She racked the slide back with some difficulty and chambered a round, then let the hammer down very carefully. It had been a long time since OCS and her small-arms training, but she still knew how to chamber a round. Firing it would be something else again. Probably take down a wall if she tried it. Gun in hand, she went around the house again with Harry, but he seemed much more interested in sticking to her than in sniffing out bad guys in the closets. When she was satisfied that no one was in the house, she checked locks and lights, then went upstairs to bed.
TUESOAY She gave up trying to get back to sleep a little after five.
Her night had been fitful, disturbed by dreams of whispering objects, and she had started awake with every night sound.
Harry looked at her accusingly when she finally turned on a light and got up, but he dutifully followed her downstairs after she had washed her face and combed her hair. She brought the big automatic with her, putting it down on the counter next to the coffeepot. It looked very much out of place.
It was still dark outside, but there were signs of light visible on the eastern horizon. First light, she thought, then realized she was still in her nightgown. She hurried upstairs and threw on some jeans and a sweater. She got back downstairs just in time to see the headlights of Train’s car rolling up into her driveway.
She went outside as Train got out. He waved to her when she said good morning. Then he went around to the back of the car, where he opened the two rear doors and called softly. An enormous Doberman hopped out onto the driveway, looked around briefly, saw Karen, and trotted right over to the porch steps. She was about to flee back into the house when Train gave a command and the dog stopped in its tracks at the top of the steps and sat down.
“What is that?” she asked.
Train laughed as he came over. “That is Gutter. He’s your new-and-improved security system.”
“Gutter?”
“You have to admit, the name lends a certain style,” he said, patting the dog’s sleek black head. “His real name is Gbtterddmmerung, but”Gutter’ works as a metaphor for everyday mayhem.”
“Will he eat Harry?” she asked as she headed back inside.
“Not if he’s submissive.”
She had to go get a leash before she could drag Harry out to the front porch. Harry adopted a disgustingly submissive posture in front of the statuelike Dobe, who looked down at Harry briefly before resuming his inspection of the morning sky. Karen took off Harry’s leash, and the old dog slunk down the porch steps and out of sight around the comer.
I”Okay, that’s all we need,” Train said. “There won’t be any trouble between those two. Now you.”
“Me what?” she said, eyeing Gutter.
“Sit down on the top step, right next to him. Do what I say. Do precisely what I say. Have you showered yet this morning?”
“I beg your pardon?” she said as she nervously sat down next to the dog, whose head was slightly higher than hers.
“Scent is all-important,” he replied. The dog looked at Train and waited. Train came up on the steps and sat down on the other side of the dog. He reached across the dog’s back and took Karen’s hand. Karen felt as if she was putting her hand in a big warm vise. He held her hand alongside the dog’s muzzle and bent down next to the dog’s face, speaking in German as he did so.
The dog looked first at Train and then back over his shoulder at Karen.
Then he wiggled like an eel and was all over her, nuzzling, sniffing, making happy whimpering sounds like a
