to you tomorrow about the foundation, and you’d better have papers to show me.”
“That’s it?” Luc asked. “I don’t get any say in this?”
“A woman always has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.” Skye turned her back on Luc and looked at Wally.
The chief’s face wore a mean scarecrow smile. What was the man up to? He walked through the steel door leading to the rest of the station before she could ask.
Simon grabbed a piece of paper and drew a map to his house. He handed it to Luc. “Here. Skye will take you back to her place so you can pick up your car. I’m locking the door and going to bed in twenty minutes. Don’t bother coming over if you take longer than that.”
To Luc, Skye said, “Go wait in the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”
As Luc left the building, Skye and Simon both sighed. They could hear the mumbled sound of the dispatcher talking behind the reception area’s half-counter, half-glass partition, but otherwise there was blessed silence.
Simon put his arm around Skye. “You realize this situation has all the makings of a disaster.”
She nodded. “And you haven’t thought of the half of it. Wait until my mother and Uncle Charlie hear about it.”
CHAPTER 6
Guess Who’s Coming to Breakfast
S kye sprang into a sitting position clutching the sheet to her chest. Bingo, his tail fluffed to twice its normal size, ran under the bed. Someone was in the cottage. The distinctive squeak of the front door had nudged her from a dreamless sleep, but the sound of someone opening and closing drawers shoved her into full wakefulness. What should she do?
The baseball bat her brother had given her as a housewarming gift was propped between her nightstand and the wall. She grabbed it and eased off the mattress unto the floor. Thankful that the thick carpeting muffled her movements, she tiptoed to the bedroom door. It sounded as if the intruder was in the kitchen. Terrific, he was in there with her only phone.
Suddenly the radio blared. What kind of thief turned on the radio to work by? Skye edged the bedroom door open and snuck through the great room, hiding behind first the sofa, then a chair, and ultimately wedging herself between two bookcases. From there she could see through the archway into one corner of the kitchen.
She eyed the distance between her location and the exits. To get out the front door, she would need to pass the foyer’s entrance to the kitchen. If she went out the great room’s French doors, she’d either have to walk around the house,passing in front of the kitchen windows, or jump into the river and swim for it. She didn’t think she’d make it much past the dam.
One of the things she had always liked about her cottage was the isolation and the idea that the backyard wasn’t accessible except through her property or the water. But now the idea of neighbors was starting to have some appeal.
Shit!
The French doors’ deadbolt locks required a key to open, even from the inside, and hers were on the foyer table. Maybe the window in her bedroom? No, the noise of opening it would attract unwanted attention. She was trapped. Skye sagged against the wall. Okay, she needed to attack. Surprise was her only advantage.
She heard the trespasser open the fridge but couldn’t see him. What in the heck was he doing, fixing himself a sandwich? It didn’t matter; now was the time. His back would be to her, and if she were lucky, his hands would be full. Skye hurtled into the kitchen, bat raised … and skidded to a stop, the bat suspended in midair.
The figure at the refrigerator whirled around, holding four eggs in one hand and a half gallon of milk in the other. Both splattered all over the floor. “What in the world are you doing, Skye? You nearly gave me a heart attack jumping out at me like that.” Skye’s mother grabbed a roll of paper towels and started to wipe up the mess on the linoleum.
As Skye
“That’s it?” Luc asked. “I don’t get any say in this?”
“A woman always has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.” Skye turned her back on Luc and looked at Wally.
The chief’s face wore a mean scarecrow smile. What was the man up to? He walked through the steel door leading to the rest of the station before she could ask.
Simon grabbed a piece of paper and drew a map to his house. He handed it to Luc. “Here. Skye will take you back to her place so you can pick up your car. I’m locking the door and going to bed in twenty minutes. Don’t bother coming over if you take longer than that.”
To Luc, Skye said, “Go wait in the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”
As Luc left the building, Skye and Simon both sighed. They could hear the mumbled sound of the dispatcher talking behind the reception area’s half-counter, half-glass partition, but otherwise there was blessed silence.
Simon put his arm around Skye. “You realize this situation has all the makings of a disaster.”
She nodded. “And you haven’t thought of the half of it. Wait until my mother and Uncle Charlie hear about it.”
CHAPTER 6
Guess Who’s Coming to Breakfast
S kye sprang into a sitting position clutching the sheet to her chest. Bingo, his tail fluffed to twice its normal size, ran under the bed. Someone was in the cottage. The distinctive squeak of the front door had nudged her from a dreamless sleep, but the sound of someone opening and closing drawers shoved her into full wakefulness. What should she do?
The baseball bat her brother had given her as a housewarming gift was propped between her nightstand and the wall. She grabbed it and eased off the mattress unto the floor. Thankful that the thick carpeting muffled her movements, she tiptoed to the bedroom door. It sounded as if the intruder was in the kitchen. Terrific, he was in there with her only phone.
Suddenly the radio blared. What kind of thief turned on the radio to work by? Skye edged the bedroom door open and snuck through the great room, hiding behind first the sofa, then a chair, and ultimately wedging herself between two bookcases. From there she could see through the archway into one corner of the kitchen.
She eyed the distance between her location and the exits. To get out the front door, she would need to pass the foyer’s entrance to the kitchen. If she went out the great room’s French doors, she’d either have to walk around the house,passing in front of the kitchen windows, or jump into the river and swim for it. She didn’t think she’d make it much past the dam.
One of the things she had always liked about her cottage was the isolation and the idea that the backyard wasn’t accessible except through her property or the water. But now the idea of neighbors was starting to have some appeal.
Shit!
The French doors’ deadbolt locks required a key to open, even from the inside, and hers were on the foyer table. Maybe the window in her bedroom? No, the noise of opening it would attract unwanted attention. She was trapped. Skye sagged against the wall. Okay, she needed to attack. Surprise was her only advantage.
She heard the trespasser open the fridge but couldn’t see him. What in the heck was he doing, fixing himself a sandwich? It didn’t matter; now was the time. His back would be to her, and if she were lucky, his hands would be full. Skye hurtled into the kitchen, bat raised … and skidded to a stop, the bat suspended in midair.
The figure at the refrigerator whirled around, holding four eggs in one hand and a half gallon of milk in the other. Both splattered all over the floor. “What in the world are you doing, Skye? You nearly gave me a heart attack jumping out at me like that.” Skye’s mother grabbed a roll of paper towels and started to wipe up the mess on the linoleum.
As Skye
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