through the house, I also was aware that my courage was wavering, that more and more I wanted just to hurry up and get dressed and get the hell out of the house.
I went back into my bedroom and pulled out my formal-but-not-too-formal blue dress. I liked the way it made my eyes look. I also found a slip, a pair of heels, and stockings. My clothes for the evening set out, I went into the bathroom and locked the door.
Somehow, being in the confined space of the bathroom made me feel safer. I started the shower going. I took off my watch and earrings, set them on the sink. Closed the toilet lid, undressed and set the folded clothes on top of the lid. Ah, routine.
I got in the shower and started to relax a little, although I was still pretty jittery. I felt as if I were on a pendulum, swinging between anxiety and anger. I didn’t have time for a very long shower, but I made the most of it. I tried to lose myself in the steam and rushing water, the fragrances of my soap, shampoo and conditioner. As I rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, I stood listening to the roar of the water over my ears. I turned the water off. Suddenly I was paralyzed by fear.
There was a noise outside the bathroom.
I stood there, afraid even to reach for my towel, shivering and dripping wet. There it was again, muffled, but definitely a noise. On the other side of the bathroom wall? In the kitchen? Or was it the hallway?
I tried to open the shower door as quietly as possible. It made a creaking sound that I was sure could be heard in New Jersey. Cursing under my breath, I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around me. I looked at my watch — six-fifteen. Too early for Guy. I looked around to see what I could use for a weapon. Other than a nail file and a bottle of hair spray, not much. It wasn’t even aerosol hair spray. So this was going to be my reward for being concerned about the ozone.
Suddenly there was a different noise. I waited. It was someone knocking loudly on the front door. I got on the bathroom floor and looked through the space under the door. No feet in the bedroom. I made myself open the bathroom door a crack. Closet still open, no one in there. I grabbed a robe, rearmed myself with the nail file, and crept to the bedroom door. I slowly opened it a couple of inches and peered nervously up and down the hallway. No one. The knocking came again, more insistent.
I heard a muffled shout through the door that sounded like my name. I made a run for the front door and stood to one side.
“Who is it?” I shouted.
“It’s Pete Baird. Are you okay?”
I opened the door. He was standing there red-faced, with gun drawn. “Irene, are you all right?”
I nodded, standing back to let him in.
“Jesus Christ, lady, you really make my goddamn job tough, you know it? Do you have a fucking death wish or something? What the hell possessed you to come over here?”
“I might ask the same of you,” I said, trying to slip the nail file inconspicuously into the pocket of my robe.
“What brings me over here? A good thing you’ve got friends, or you woulda been a stiff about a week ago, you know that? Your friend Lydia called Frank. Told him your great plan for coming over here. He got in touch with me just before I was leaving the office. Now, Miss Reporter, I’ve answered your questions, so you want to tell me what in God’s name you’re doing here?”
“It’s my home,” I said, trying to regain my composure.
“Oh, for Chrissakes.”
Five minutes ago I was too scared to step outside my bathroom, or I would have been miffed at Lydia. As it was, I was damn glad Pete was here. “Look,” I said, “it probably was a dumb idea, but my clothes are here, and I didn’t want someone I don’t know very well finding out about Lydia’s house.”
“Well, that might make a little bit of sense, but you should have had somebody come over here with you.”
“You’re right, I admit it. I just don’t want to have someone hold my hand all the time. I’m not used to all this protection. I feel like I’m being a damned nuisance to everybody. I want to be able to take care of myself.”
“I’ll tell you what’s a nuisance. Not getting an answer when I’m pounding on your front door, but seeing your car outside. I was about one minute away from calling for backup.”
“Sorry, I was in the shower. I didn’t realize it was the door at first, and I guess I was kind of spooked — I wasn’t expecting anyone yet.”
“You’re aging me rapidly, Irene. If you don’t mind, I’ll wait here until your new boyfriend shows up.”
“I’ll ignore that last remark. I appreciate your coming by to watch over me. I’ll feel better knowing you’re here.”
“Well, what do you know? The Queen of the Amazons will let me stay. If Frank wasn’t such a good friend —”
“If a Mr. St. Germain comes to the door while I’m getting ready, would you be so good as to not try to scare him off? It’s really none of your business if I’m going somewhere with somebody besides your pal Frank.”
I went back to get dressed. The process was much faster without the fear slowing me down; another kind of fear, the fear of Pete’s giving Guy a lot of bull, made me speed up. I managed to get dressed and put my hair up on top of my head in what I thought of as some kind of semi-prissy fashion.
Guy knocked on the door just as I was coming down the hallway, a little wobbly in the heels. Pete motioned me to stay back and carefully answered the door himself. Guy stood there in a tux, an absolute hunk. He seemed a little surprised to see Pete, and I saw him looking first at the window, then at the chair, and hesitating.
“Come on in, Guy,” I called out from behind Pete. “This is Detective Pete Baird of the Las Piernas Police Department.” They shook hands.
“Glad to meet you,” Guy said with a smile. “You look very nice tonight, Irene. The blue in the dress looks good with your eyes.”
