Deadline by Fern Michaels Page A

she’d sanded herself glistened in the light, warm and comforting. She pulled down the shades on the French doors that led outside to an enclosed courtyard. She wasn’t going to give a Peeping Tom an opportunity, not that she ever had that particular problem, but with everything that was happening, she was on edge.
    Her mother’s warning was ringing in her ears, and she had to admit it was possible there was someone out there abducting young women. That led to the thought that if there was, maybe he or she only went after Hollywood starlets. If so, she was perfectly safe and could relax again. Mentally kicking her butt for such a terrible thought, she tossed her purse and Chester’s leash on the small kitchen table.
    â€œI promised you bacon and eggs, and I’m going to join you.” Realizing she hadn’t had a bite to eat since lunch, Abby removed a bright yellow bowl from the cupboard, along with eggs, bacon, and milk from the refrigerator. Using a cast-iron skillet that had a permanent place on the top of her stove, she sprayed the skillet liberally with cooking spray and turned the heat on under it, cracked five eggs into the yellow bowl and added a dash of milk. She whipped the mixture into a frothy pale yellow foam, carefully placed four slices of bacon on a paper towel, tossed it in the microwave, then poured the eggs into the sizzling skillet.
    Chester stood beside her, his black nose twitching.
    â€œSmells good, huh?” Abby said as she removed the bacon from the microwave. She stirred the eggs until they were plump and fluffy. “This has to cool, Bud; I like it hot, but I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait a few more minutes.” She scooped a large portion of scrambled eggs onto a paper plate, along with three slices of bacon, and placed it inside the freezer.
    She took her plate to the table, Chester still at her heels. While she waited for Chester’s dinner to cool in the freezer, she booted up her laptop, hoping against hope to find a reply from Chris. Her cell phone had died as soon as she’d hung up with her mother. Maybe Chris had tried to get in touch with her. She looked over her shoulder at the light on her answering machine, but the red light was as still as the night—not one single message. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
    She removed Chester’s meal from the freezer and transferred it from the paper plate to his doggy dish. Chester was very finicky and would only eat from his dish. He wolfed down the bacon and eggs in a matter of seconds, then took several loud slurps of water from his bowl.
    â€œI like a man with table manners,” Abby said to him. His noisy lapping always made her smile.
    After she was finished eating, Abby checked her e-mail, still hoping for a response from Chris. She skimmed down the list. Nothing. Checking to see if he’d even read her e-mails, again she was disappointed when she saw the NOT READ icon on her screen.
    â€œThis is not good, Chester. It’s been three days since Laura went missing. If Chris was last seen with her, has he also been missing for three days?” Abby often spoke to Chester as though he could understand her.
    As he always did, he tilted his furry head to the side, his deep brown eyes locking with hers. “Woof!”
    â€œWhatever that is in doggy-speak, I agree.”
    What Abby wished she knew was if Chris had been missing for three days, too. She hadn’t spoken to him in a week, so she had no clue. He worked out of his condo and didn’t have a secretary or an answering service he checked in with, so it was a distinct possibility that he was missing as well. Should she file a missing persons report? No, you had to be missing for twenty-four hours. For all she knew, Chris was kicked back on his patio watching the stars.
    Maybe he’d removed himself from the world of instant connection for a few days. He and Abby had discussed that very thing at