Page 96 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
“S-someone’s there!” Shaking, I pointed to the doorway.
I might as well have just told him Al-Qaeda was waiting in the living room. In a blur of movement so fast it seemed superhuman, he’d thrown back the covers, bent and retrieved a shotgun from beneath the bed, stood, and cocked it.
Chh-chh!
It was a sound that froze my blood to ice water.
Nico hit a switch on the wall beside the bed, and the room was flooded in light. The doorway was empty.
“Someone was just there,” I whispered, trembling all over. I pulled the covers up to my chin. “I’m sure of it. They were right there.”
Nico’s voice was steady. “How many?”
I swallowed, tasting the sour bite of fear. “One.”
We both listened hard for a moment. No sound came from beyond the doorway. The hallway was dark.
“Get into the bathroom and lock the door. Take the portable phone from my nightstand and call 911.”
I moved as fast as I could, crawling over his side of the bed. “What are you going to do?”
“Get in the bathroom. Lock the door. Call 911.” His voice was low and hard.
Terrified, I obeyed him without further question. I grabbed the phone, stumbled in blind panic into the bathroom, and shut the door, locking it with fumbling fingers. My hands shook so badly it took several tries for me to dial 911.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
Trying to keep my voice low, I hissed into the phone, “Someone broke into our house!”
The operator read off Nico’s address. “Is that correct, ma’am?”
“Yes! Please send someone as soon as possible!”
“Can you describe the situation for me please, ma’am?”
I gave the operator as much information as I could recall. It wasn’t much. I’d just seen a dark figure in the doorway. There hadn’t been enough light to make out what kind of clothing he was wearing, let alone describe his features.
“How can you be certain it was a male, ma’am?”
That stumped me for a moment. “I just thought from the size of the person. The height. It didn’t seem like a woman.”
The operator made a sound that indicated she didn’t think a person awakened from a dead sleep in a dark bedroom could be trusted on the matter of whether or not the intruder in her home was a man or a woman. “Do you wear corrective lenses, ma’am?”
I’d been pacing, but stopped short. There was something about this operator . . . something in her attitude . . .
“Wait. Were you working the morning of Saturday the twenty-third last month?”
A faint, weary sigh. “Let’s get back to your emergency, ma’am. Is there anyone else in the home with you? Any minor children or—”
“Oh my God! It is you! You’re the lady who took my call when I was being attacked by the paparazzi!” I recognized her now. That faintly bored, put-upon tone. The I’d-rather-be-anywhere-but-here sigh. I’d know that voice anywhere.
Jesus Christ, what were the odds? Ten million to one?
“I need to talk to your manager.” I began pacing, chewing my thumbnail.
The operator had the audacity to sound insulted. “Ma’am, please try not to panic—”
“I’m not panicking!” I shouted, exactly like a person who is panicking.
