Single White Female by John Lutz Page A

guess you get tired of me telling you.”
    God, she was even apologizing for that. “It’s okay, Hedra. But be assured I believe you.”
    Hedra sipped her tea and said, “Just right.” She set the cup on the upholstered arm of the chair, balancing it there with a light touch of her right hand. Allie felt guilty about losing her patience. Hedra was, in many ways, a more agreeable roommate than most. She was certainly preferable to a loudmouthed egotist who’d try to take over and run things. Or a lover who’d throw away your heart like a used Kleenex.
    Allie said, “It’s nice having you around, Hedra. I mean that.”
    “I . . . well, thanks, Allie.” She was actually pretty when she smiled, a kind of animated Mona Lisa. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, a guy was by here looking for you yesterday morning after you left. Said his name was Sam.”
    Allie almost spilled her tea, which was too close to the rim. She hadn’t drunk any, waiting for it to cool. “Sam, you said?”
    “Right. Something wrong?”
    “Sam’s the man I was living with here. Before we decided to part. I decided, actually.”
    “Oh. You were . . . ?”
    “We were lovers.”
    “I’m sorry about the breakup, Allie. Those kinda things happen.”
    “All the time,” Allie agreed. But not to me. Not so suddenly. With a phone call in the night that knocked the entire world out of kilter. Damn it, she was straightening that world and Sam had no right coming around and trying to complicate things. He’d sent Billy Stothers to collect the rest of his belongings before Hedra had moved in; there was nothing of him left in the apartment, and Allie wanted nothing left of him in her life. That was the only way to stay off the roller coaster. He’d deceived her once and he would again, if she weakened and gave him the chance. He was booze and she was an alcoholic—one drink and she was lost.
    “Did you tell him you lived here?” Allie asked.
    “No. He didn’t ask, so I didn’t have to lie. And he didn’t seem to suspect. Probably figured I was just a friend waiting for you to get home.”
    “I doubt it,” Allie said. “He knows me and my finances.”
    The wind and rain took another whack at the window, rattling the glass, almost breaking through. Or maybe the noise seemed louder because the TV was turned off. Who the hell needed Wall Street Week ? “Sam seems nice,” Hedra said.
    “Seems.” Allie sipped at her tea. It was almost cool enough to drink without burning her tongue.
    Hedra said, “He left a message. Told me to tell you he was sorry he missed you and he’d be back.”
    Allie said, “I was afraid of that.”

10
    As soon as she swung the door open, Allie was sure someone was in the apartment. The air hadn’t the usual stale stillness of a room unoccupied since morning. Something had stirred it not long ago. There was no discernible sound, yet the silence wasn’t complete.
    She stood paralyzed on the threshold. Hedra was working all day at her temporary receptionist job. Sam. Maybe Sam had forced his way in. Her glance darted to the locks on the door. She found them intact and without scratches on the surrounding wood. But it was possible Sam had an extra key made before returning his. He’d deceived her in other ways, why not that?
    Damn him! Damn him!
    She took a stiff step inside and glanced around the living room. Everything was normal, the television and stereo—candy for burglars—were still in place.
    Sam.
    Had to be Sam.
    Anger rose in her and supplanted fear. She moved farther into the apartment and quietly shut the door.
    She slipped off her high heels and laid them gently aside, then padded in her nyloned feet across the floor toward the short hall to the bedrooms. She peered into Hedra’s room and found it unoccupied, the bed, unlike Allie’s, neatly made in almost military fashion. It was possible to bounce a quarter off the spread and watch it glance off the ceiling, Allie thought. Hedra the good soldier.