Deadline by Fern Michaels Page B

great length. While both admitted they did not know how they survived before the World Wide Web, both agreed it was sometimes too invasive. They’d talked about taking a break from the high-tech world, maybe going away for a few days without a cell phone or a laptop. But that was as far as they’d ever gotten, talking about it. Maybe Chris had taken the much-needed break. Maybe he was simply holed up in his condo with the telephone unplugged.
    Deciding there was only one way to find out, she tossed her paper plate in the garbage can. “Chester, my friend, we are going to do a little wee-morning snooping.” Picking up his leash from the table, along with her purse, Abby headed for the front door. Chester followed. “I’ll pay you back big-time for this. When things calm down, we’ll go visit Coco.” At the mention of the little Chihuahua, Chester ran in circles, jumping up and down as though he were performing in a circus act.
    â€œSoon, Buddy. Right now, I need your protection. Just in case.” With that, she left, not bothering to turn off the lights. The hell with the electric bill. Her salary had doubled since she’d taken the position of editor in chief. She could afford to leave the lights on for a few hours without worrying about the meter going crazy.
    Back inside her MINI Cooper, Abby fastened Chester’s seat belt, then her own. She’d grabbed her cell phone charger on the way out and plugged it into the cigarette lighter. When she took her phone out of her purse and plugged it in, she saw the lightning bolt in the upper right-hand corner of the screen, indicating a positive charge.
    Hoping she wasn’t embarking on another wild-goose chase in the same twenty-four-hour period, Abby sped off into the night to search for the man who, even though he wasn’t aware of it, held her heart in his hands. At least she didn’t think he was aware of it. But that didn’t matter. What did matter was that she find Chris. As the hours and minutes passed, she was becoming more creeped out than ever.
    Chris’s condo wasn’t all that far from Brentwood. That time of night, or rather morning, it would only take twenty minutes to get there. Abby’s schedule was so screwed up, she knew she’d never be able to work a normal nine-to-five job. Writing for the tabloid press required one to be ready in a moment’s notice. Being in Hollywood meant most of the breaking news was late at night or in the wee hours of the morning.
    Seventeen minutes after she left her house, she was pulling into the condo’s guest parking. Hooking Chester’s leash to his collar, she led him out of the car on the driver’s side. One door slamming that time of morning was enough. Hopefully, Chris didn’t have nosy neighbors.
    Abby led Chester down the narrow sidewalk. Careful not to make any unnecessary noise, she practically tiptoed up the two flights of stairs. The sound of Chester’s nails clicking on the cement was magnified in the still night air. When they reached Chris’s condo, before knocking on the door, she peeked inside the small pane of glass at the top of the door.
    She couldn’t see much. There were no lights on, but she could tell by the moonlight filtering through that the sliding glass doors were open. Smiling and ready to kick his butt and take names later for causing her to worry, Abby gently knocked on the door so she wouldn’t startle him. It was three in the morning, the witching hour, as Sophie referred to it, not the most appropriate time to pop in and say hello.
    When there was no response to her light knocking, she knocked harder and was surprised when the door opened. “Chris?” She pushed the door to the side but remained outside. Seeing that she was right, and the sliders were open, Abby entered the condo. “Chris, are you here?” She waited for a minute, thinking he might be in the shower. When there was still