cotton-mouthed rapper scratched at the edges of her brain like sandpaper. Her bedroom windows shook, and as the volume of the music increased, Julia feared its sheer force would be enough to shatter them entirely. Then just as she rose out of bed to go to the window, the bass began to fade. A few seconds later it was gone. Living in the city, she was accustomed to hearing rap music blasting from car speakers at volumes too earsplitting to be legal. But it was rare to hear it in this neighborhood. It was even rarer to hear it at 12:30 in the morning.
Downstairs, George and Gracie were barking up a storm, and Julia guessed the music had awakened them too. It normally took very little to whip the two of them into an absolute frenzy, especially when they were startled. As guard dogs went, Julia could not have asked for a better pair. Gracie was usually curled up on the floor in front of Julia’s bed, while George held down the kitchen. It made for a good night’s sleep knowing those two were always around, always reliable, and always ready to bite the nuts clean off of any asshole who didn’t belong there.
In fact, George and Gracie were the only reason Julia was able to sleep at all. She’d had a security system installed the day she moved into the house, and it was armed every night. But she never fully trusted it to keep her safe. It couldn’t sense the danger before it arrived, nor did it have instincts to protect her to the death. It was a machine, which meant it could be tricked, manipulated, and ultimately defeated. As far as Julia was concerned, none of those things could happen to her Dalmatians.
Tonight, more than any other night that she could remember, she was grateful for their presence.
Julia feared there were people in the world who meant to do her harm because of what she knew about them. Before yesterday, there had been no direct evidence to substantiate this fear. There weren’t any menacing phone calls or emails, no warning shots through her bedroom window, no failed car bomb detonations. There was only the disk and the safeguards she took to ensure that no one else was aware of its existence. And as far as she knew, no one else was.
But when she saw the black Audi trailing her as she left Camille’s house yesterday afternoon, Julia knew that it wa s time to rethink that notion.
She first noticed the car three days ago on her morning drive to work. She had always had a thing for Audis and the arrogant dickheads who drove them, so she paid close attention to the car the instant it pulled up behind her at a stoplight. Though the darkly tinted windows prevented her from getting a good look at the driver, he wasn’t difficult to imagine. She had dated men like him by the dozen; most of them tax attorneys who preferred money clips to wallets, ate sushi instead of red meat, and prized trophy mistresses over their blindly committed wives. The man she pictured sitting behind the wheel fit the profile to a tee. He undoubtedly sat ramrod straight in his seat, his left hand – absent a wedding ring – tightly gripping the top of the steering wheel. And though she had no way of knowing for sure, she couldn’t escape the feeling that his eyes were fixed on her.
Her mouth curled up in a tight smile at the thought.
Whenever she glanced in her mirror he was there. When she switched lanes, so did he. When she ran a yellow light he ran the red one. And so it went for the entire eight mile drive to her office. She didn’t want to read too much into it. He was most likely just another three-piece suit wearing idiot running late for work. The morning commute was full of them. But a small part of her still hoped that his attention was something more than fellow motorist.
She let the thought pass quickly, however. It was exactly that line of thinking that always seemed to get her in trouble. And the last thing Julia could afford more of was trouble.
By the time she reached the parking garage of her office
Downstairs, George and Gracie were barking up a storm, and Julia guessed the music had awakened them too. It normally took very little to whip the two of them into an absolute frenzy, especially when they were startled. As guard dogs went, Julia could not have asked for a better pair. Gracie was usually curled up on the floor in front of Julia’s bed, while George held down the kitchen. It made for a good night’s sleep knowing those two were always around, always reliable, and always ready to bite the nuts clean off of any asshole who didn’t belong there.
In fact, George and Gracie were the only reason Julia was able to sleep at all. She’d had a security system installed the day she moved into the house, and it was armed every night. But she never fully trusted it to keep her safe. It couldn’t sense the danger before it arrived, nor did it have instincts to protect her to the death. It was a machine, which meant it could be tricked, manipulated, and ultimately defeated. As far as Julia was concerned, none of those things could happen to her Dalmatians.
Tonight, more than any other night that she could remember, she was grateful for their presence.
Julia feared there were people in the world who meant to do her harm because of what she knew about them. Before yesterday, there had been no direct evidence to substantiate this fear. There weren’t any menacing phone calls or emails, no warning shots through her bedroom window, no failed car bomb detonations. There was only the disk and the safeguards she took to ensure that no one else was aware of its existence. And as far as she knew, no one else was.
But when she saw the black Audi trailing her as she left Camille’s house yesterday afternoon, Julia knew that it wa s time to rethink that notion.
She first noticed the car three days ago on her morning drive to work. She had always had a thing for Audis and the arrogant dickheads who drove them, so she paid close attention to the car the instant it pulled up behind her at a stoplight. Though the darkly tinted windows prevented her from getting a good look at the driver, he wasn’t difficult to imagine. She had dated men like him by the dozen; most of them tax attorneys who preferred money clips to wallets, ate sushi instead of red meat, and prized trophy mistresses over their blindly committed wives. The man she pictured sitting behind the wheel fit the profile to a tee. He undoubtedly sat ramrod straight in his seat, his left hand – absent a wedding ring – tightly gripping the top of the steering wheel. And though she had no way of knowing for sure, she couldn’t escape the feeling that his eyes were fixed on her.
Her mouth curled up in a tight smile at the thought.
Whenever she glanced in her mirror he was there. When she switched lanes, so did he. When she ran a yellow light he ran the red one. And so it went for the entire eight mile drive to her office. She didn’t want to read too much into it. He was most likely just another three-piece suit wearing idiot running late for work. The morning commute was full of them. But a small part of her still hoped that his attention was something more than fellow motorist.
She let the thought pass quickly, however. It was exactly that line of thinking that always seemed to get her in trouble. And the last thing Julia could afford more of was trouble.
By the time she reached the parking garage of her office