My vision goes clear, and I'm able to focus on the face hovering over me.
“Gabriel?” I ask, blinking away the darkness. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, slowly coming back to my senses. “Somebody was in my house. He kicked me.”
Gabriel helps me sit all the way up.
“Are you okay? You think you can stand, or do you need to sit there for a few more seconds?”
“I'm going to sit here,” I say. “I called 911; they should be on the way. What are you doing here?”
“I was going down the street to visit a buddy of mine, and I saw a guy burst out through the front door and run down the street. I realized it was your house after I saw him, so I was worried. I came in here to check on you and saw you passed out,” he says.
“Did you see the guy clearly?” I ask. “Could you tell who he was?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No. I mean, I could see that he was wearing jeans and a red sweatshirt. That's it. I didn't see his face or anything. Did he just come in here?”
“He broke in through the back door,” I say. “I was in my office, and I heard the glass break.”
“Where's your car? It doesn't even look as if you're home,” he says.
“It's in the shop,” I say. “Sam took it in this morning. He must have either already come back for his squad car or had somebody else bring him back by to pick it up while I was in the shower. I've been gone so much, and without the car here, it probably does look as if I'm not here. That would be why he decided to try to break in now.”
“Did he get anything?” Gabriel asks.
“I don't think so,” I say. “He was only in here for a few seconds, and he just went from the kitchen into the living room. It doesn't look as if he tried to take any of the art or collectibles. The TV hasn't been touched. But, again, he was only in here for a few seconds. He really didn’t get an opportunity.”
“What about the drawers?” he asks.
I look over and notice the drawers and the sideboard are standing open. Glancing behind me, I notice the drawers in the buffet in the dining room are open, too.
“I don't know,” I say.
“Are they like that in the kitchen?” he asks.
“Honestly, I didn't even look in there. When I was coming out of the office, I heard somebody in the living room, so I came this way.”
“You sit here,” Gabriel says. “I'm going to go check.”
He heads into the back of the house and a few seconds later returns, nodding.
“They're all standing open. There's stuff all over the floor, as if whoever it was tossed everything out of a couple of the drawers.”
A second later, lights and sirens announce the arrival of the police. Sam rushes in first and drops down in front of me, holding my face in his hands.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“I'm fine,” I tell him. “It just startled me more than anything. Took me by surprise.”
“The guy kicked her in the back of the head,” Gabriel says. “She was out for a few seconds.”
“Seriously?” Sam asks.
I roll my eyes. “I'm fine. My head hurts, but I'll be okay. He didn't aim for any of the really soft places.”
Sam takes my hands and helps me up to my feet. He kisses both hands, then holds them to his chest and leans down so he can look into my eyes.
“You will do anything to make me come home from work early, won't you?” he teases.
I laugh. “Absolutely. That was my plan all along. That guy was just from the high school theater department.”
Sam kisses me on the forehead and leads me over to the couch so I can sit down. Three EMTs armed with what looks like a mobile hospital packed up into red bags rush inside.
“Guys,” I call over. “It's fine. Stand down. There's no blood." I slide my eyes over to Sam and lower my voice under my breath. "There's no blood, right?"
He peeks at the back of my head and shakes his. "No."
"There's no blood," I say, lifting my voice up again.
One of the EMTs, a young man I have encountered a couple of times before, lets out a sigh of relief.
"It's always a concern when we find out we're getting a call involving you," he says.
My mouth opens, but no effective sounds come out, and I close it.
"Thank you, Miller," Sam says. "I appreciate it that you guys rushed out here. Emma seems okay, but I would feel better if you would give her a quick once over. Just to be sure."
I sit on the couch while they shine a light in my eyes and have me follow it back and forth. Another of them presses her fingers into the back of my head to find the tender spot.
"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Miller asks.
I shake my head. "No. I'm fine. Not the first time I've been knocked out for a few seconds."
"And probably not the last." He packs up his materials and smiles at me. "Have a good day."
My eyes slide slowly over to Sam as they leave.
"Resounding endorsement of me," I mutter. "Just kind of in general."
“If everything's okay, I think I'm going to go ahead and go,” Gabriel says.
Hearing his voice startles me a little. I had almost forgotten he was even in the house. Sam looks over at him and nods.
“Thank you for coming in and helping her,” he says.
“She didn't really need my help,” Gabriel answers with a smile. “Emma can handle herself.”
“She can,” Sam agrees. “But that doesn't mean it isn’t good to have backup every now and then. If you don't mind, would you stop by the police station whenever you have a chance
