
She flattened herself against the wall. It seemed an eternity, but the footsteps stopped at the basement door and she took a deep breath. The basement door opened. Looking up, she saw Jett through the cracks in the wooden stairs.
For a moment he just stood on the top step, the door propped open with his foot, then he let it close softly behind him but remained still and silent. He knew someone was here. The lights ... she'd left the lights on. She barely breathed, just shallow breaths to keep from passing out, afraid he'd hear her. Bruno Magli shoes descended to the second riser. She briefly closed her eyes, thoughts of OJ and his infamous shoes reverberating ominously in her brain. Surely, it was coincidence.
What if it wasn't? Were the shoes preferred wear for killers? Some kind of uniform? No, of course not. That was ridiculous.
The shoes descended another step, then another, and she held her breath until her ears rang and her lungs ached. If he crossed the room, she might be able to spin around and get up the stairs before he caught her. If she was fast enough, quiet enough, lucky enough....
The shoes stopped on the second from the bottom stair. She saw denim though the gaps, dark socks, long legs--she looked up and her gaze locked with dark blue eyes peering at her through the risers. Oh damn.
He smiled, but it wasn't a very nice smile. "Well," he said, taking the last stairs leisurely, giving her too much time to contemplate his next words and actions, "I seem to have an uninvited visitor."
"I ... uh, was just looking for you."
"And now you've found me." He reached the floor and turned to look at her where she'd edged out from beneath the stairs to feel for an escape route in the concrete block walls.
"Why yes," she said, aware she spoke too brightly, "here you are. Now that you're home, I'll just be going."
"No, I don't think so." He moved a few steps closer; near enough she could see the cold, dangerous gleam in his eyes. Uh oh.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said, "really. I think I hear my mother calling me."
"They're not home."
She stared at him suspiciously. "And how do you know that?"
"Because that obscene, puke green van is gone from the driveway."
"Oh." That sounded logical. After all, it had been Bobby's first clue. So maybe he hadn't done anything to them or was responsible for them leaving. Maybe.
"Just what the hell are you doing here?"
"I was looking ... for ... for King. The dog. Diva thought she saw him come in here. He got loose again."
"King needs a keeper. Or a heavy chain tying him down. Kinda like you."
"That isn't very nice."
"I'm not a big fan of nice." He loomed over her. "I don't like you being here, and I don't like my privacy violated. Usually, I tend to get nasty about things like this."