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At the door, Trev crouched and peered through the gap. The living room lights were on. He didn't see anyone. On the carpet just inside were dark water drops and footprints, but they faded away after the intruder had gone a short distance. |
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Only one set of footprints. Made by sneakers. Large for the shoes of a woman, but it had been a woman who answered the phone. |
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A big gal. But apparently alone. |
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He tried the knob. It turned, and he eased the door open until it met the wall. He stepped into the house. |
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He closed the door. He pulled off his hat and plastic hood, and dropped them to the floor. That was a lot better. Now, his vision wasn't limited to the eyeholes. The cool air felt good on his face. |
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A few strides took him to the center of the living room. The sofa, easy chairs, lamp tables and television stand were flush against the walls. Nobody could be hiding behind them. Nobody seemed to be lurking in the corners. He saw no bulges in the window curtains. |
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Trev moved slowly toward the dining room. The chandelier above the table was dark. The only light was that which spilled in from the living room. Stopping in the archway, he sank to a crouch. He peered through the bars of chair and table legs. Staying low, he scanned the rest of the room. Nobody. |
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Over to his left, the kitchen door was shut. A strip of light showed at the bottom. He had checked the |
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