Intrusion by Arlene Kay

knew that Kai waited there for me. Maybe Tommy was with him, too. I stretched my leg, lessening the muscle cramps.
    Hyperventilating again, Lizzie Mae. That refrain had become my constant companion of late.
    Candy was home this time, her voice vibrant, bordering on smug. “Where are you, Betts?”
    “I’m just leaving Sweet Nothings. Are you alone?”
    I heard a masculine rumble and Candy’s distinctive laugh. During their numerous quarrels, Tommy swore she brayed like a donkey.
    “ Arun’s just leaving. It’s raining outside.”
    “Stay there. I’ll be right over.” I scooped my things into a tote and grabbed my umbrella.
    The elevator took forever. Old buildings are charming but quirky. Otto was still on guard, peering out into the darkness like a furrowed sentry.
    “Want I should get you a cab, Mrs. B.? It’s a bitch out there.” Political correctness eluded Otto. He was still plowing through the mysteries of the twentieth century, forget about the twenty-first.
    Getting a cab on a rainy Boston night was a quest that would flatten Don Quixote. Candy lived only two blocks away. I’d be there before Otto found me a cab.
    “Thanks, Otto. I’ll walk. I won’t melt.”
    “I don’t know, Mrs. B. You’re awful sweet.” Otto had passed retirement age long ago. He’d earned a few idiosyncrasies.
    “Wish me luck.” I unfurled my brolly and headed out. It was a sturdy Burberry model we’d found in England. The Brits know all about rain.
    I plunged eastward into a web of deserted streets. Before long I heard the distinctive slap of footsteps on the pavement directly behind me. Too close, really. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark figure clad in rain gear.
      Another idiot like me without a life.
    I quickened my pace. My shadow did, too. A thin finger of fear raced through me as I considered my options. Two blocks, two long city blocks. Was I overreacting, being a fool? Could I outrun whoever it was?
    My iPhone nestled somewhere in my tote bag. Close, yet impossibly far. I dared not stop to find it. Why, oh why had I worn high heels tonight? They hobbled me, giving any mugger an incalculable advantage.
    The rain slowly subsided, and street lights painted ghostly grins on the sidewalks. I clutched my umbrella, comforted by its hardy ribs, sturdy shaft and sharp ferrule. Fragments from a long ago self-defense course burbled up. Hug the curb; move briskly; show confidence. Those tidbits made more sense in a warm dry classroom with Kai sitting next to me. Tonight they sounded absurdly optimistic.
      My pulse reached stratospheric levels as I made a choice. Those well-mannered black pumps flew behind me like grenades. I felt liberated despite my sopping hosiery and aching feet. It was now or never time, possibly do or die. I chose the only path open to me. I ran.

 
     
     
     
    Seven
     
    I ran faster than I ever had, faster than seemed humanly possible. I wouldn’t last long running barefoot on the bruised and broken Boston pavement. Some stranger, someone right behind me, wanted me dead. I knew that with a certainty that astounded me.
    The adrenaline high was wearing off, leaving me with sharp pains and ragged shreds of breath. One more block, a short one this time. I saw the roof of Candy’s building in the distance. Thank God I’d kept my tote. Louis Vuitton doesn’t grow on trees, and that thick-coated canvas might stop a bullet if it had to. Stubborn. Stupid even. I should have waited, found a cab.
    A slate grey sports car pulled up to the curb, gunning its engine. Porsche Cayenne, I think that’s what it was. Kai priced one just like it before he died. Family friendly, he’d said.
    Maybe that stabbing pain I felt was just heartbreak. Since Kai died, nothing mattered much anyway. I wanted to look back, confront my pursuer, but that was dumb, a loser’s play. What defensive skills did I have other than an agile mind and a powerful set of lungs? A razor sharp tongue doesn’t count. Good grades