Think Twice

bust through it. It was her only chance, and she had to do it before the animal came back.

She pounded on the hole with her palms, pressing upward with all her might. Her hands hurt so much, but she couldn’t stop. She wanted to live. She didn’t feel hunger or thirst. She visualized breaking through the lid, powering through to the sunlight.

And survival.

Chapter Thirty-three

Alice opened her eyes to sunlight, pouring through the bedroom window. She buried her head back in the pillow, then remembered that Grady had spent the night. She turned over, but his side of the bed was empty. She checked the bathroom, but he wasn’t there, either. She sat up in bed and looked at the clock.

Damn!

She had overslept. She was supposed to be worried about the dog, and sleeping late didn’t fit the story. She jumped out of bed, put on a fresh Bennie outfit, found the Birks by the dresser, and hurried downstairs, fluffing up her hair, which still had the barrette. When she hit the ground floor, she smelled bacon, so she slowed her pace and walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, you.” Grady turned from the stove, came over, and gave her a hug. He had changed into jeans and a navy Lacoste shirt, revealing a torso that tapered to a trim waist. He looked so sexy she almost forgave him for his failure to launch.

“I had such a headache I couldn’t sleep, all night.” Alice broke their clinch and looked at him, pained. “That must be why I overslept. I really want to get to the hospital.”

“Relax. I called and they said he was hanging in. They’ll give us the details when we get there.” Grady smiled. On the counter behind him was a plate of bacon, and an empty frying pan sat on the burner next to a carton of brown eggs. “You want coffee? The bacon is extra crispy, the way you like it.”

“How nice, thanks.” Alice loved her bacon extra crispy, which proved that she and Bennie had exactly one thing in common.

“I was waiting until you came down to start the eggs. How do you want them?”

Alice had no idea how Bennie liked her eggs or coffee, and details like that could tip her hand. “You know, I’m sorry, I’m not hungry.”

“But we didn’t have dinner last night.”

“I’m too upset to eat. Why don’t we just go, see how he is?”

“But you love bacon. I’ve seen you eat entire pigs.”

“Not this morning. I’ll get my bag.” Alice left the kitchen for the living room, looking for Bennie’s messenger bag.

“Let me put the eggs away,” Grady called from the kitchen, where suddenly the telephone rang.

“Don’t pick up,” Alice called back. She didn’t need another test. She found the bag and went to the front door. “We have to get going.”

“Okay.”

The phone stopped ringing, but there were clicks that sounded like an old-fashioned answering machine, and Alice stopped, her hand on the knob. Did Bennie have an answering machine? Who still had an old-fashioned answering machine? How had she missed it? In the next second, a woman’s voice started talking, amplified.

“Bennie?” It was Mary DiNunzio. “I got the brief finished for Alice’s restraining order, with Judy’s help. I hope you won’t need it, but it’s good to have. I’ll email you a final tonight. See you tomorrow. Take care, bye.”

Oh no! Alice couldn’t believe her ears. She opened the front door like the call was nothing, but it was the last thing she needed. Now Grady would know that she was back in Bennie’s life. If she kept making little slips, it could give him reason to wonder whether she really was Bennie. Alice told herself to play it cool, but Grady came slowly out of the kitchen, his brow knit and his eyes concerned behind his glasses.

“Does she mean Alice Connelly?” he asked. “Are you getting a restraining order? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really. You know DiNunzio. She’s overreacting, big-time.”

“What happened?”

“I got a call that Alice quit her job, is all.” Alice reminded herself to stay the course. Until now he had no reason to suspect anything, and she couldn’t let Mary’s phone call ruin everything. “She wanted to get a restraining order, just in case.”

“Why did she quit?”

“I’ll fill you in on the way. Let’s go.” Alice walked out the door, and Grady followed, puzzled.

“Has she threatened you?”

“No, but DiNunzio wanted to have it in place, in case she did.”

“I didn’t even know you two were in contact. Last time I heard, Alice had skipped town, after you were nice enough to prove her not guilty, for free.”

“Can we not talk about this now.” Alice locked the front door, and when she turned around, Grady was frowning. She hurried down the steps and passed him on the sidewalk. “Let’s go, we have to go.”

“You sound like you’re not taking this seriously. Alice is dangerous.”

Thank you. “No, she’s not.”

“She’s a sociopath.”

Flatterer. “Don’t be silly.”

“You always underestimated her. You trust her when you shouldn’t.”

You got that right. “I don’t trust her, not completely.”

“Bennie, why didn’t you tell me about this last night? This is big news, and you didn’t even mention it.”

“I was worried about Bear, and I still am. You drive, okay?” Alice tossed him the keys when they reached the car, and they got inside. She didn’t need all these questions right now. It was just her luck that Grady picked this weekend to hook up with his long-lost love. She flashed on that saying about the best-laid plans.

And I didn’t even get laid.

Chapter Thirty-four

Mary was losing hope that she and Anthony would find a house, ever. They’d seen four in their price range, but all of them fell short of Curb Appeal! and New Fixtures! and Five Years Young! The one they were about to see was the “reach,” which she realized was code for perfect when she saw the facade of the lovely brick town-house, three stories high, with glossy black shutters and matching window boxes, bright with pink and white snapdragons.

“Welcome, folks, I’m Janine Robinson,” the realtor said, opening the door. She was an older woman, nicely made up, though her linen pantsuit had folded into an accordion. Mary had done her time in linen, and it was time for everybody to agree that linen wasn’t good for anything except irons.

“Hello,” Anthony said, introducing them both, which provoked the typical response from Janine the realtor:

“How long have you two been married?”

“We’re not,” Mary answered, since it was her turn, and Anthony stepped into the entrance hall, his hands linked loosely behind his back.

Janine smiled, toothily. “Oh, are you getting married?”

“No, we are going to live in sin.” Mary’s favorite old-time euphemism was “shacked up,” but only Tony-From- Down-The-Block used that one. Nobody trying to sell you a house ever said you were shacking up, even if you were.

“Are you working with anyone?” Janine asked, which Mary knew was another euphemism, for will-I-be- getting-a-three-percent-commission-or-six?

“No, we don’t have a broker. We’re on our own.”

“Come with me, I’ll show you around, then I’ll let you two wander upstairs.”

“Great, thanks.” Mary stepped into the living room, where something funny happened. She had never lived in