When they got in, he said in a very low voice,
“you stay down here —while I look upstairs ….just to be safe….I’ll check your—the bedroom and—“ then Leopold barked at him and ran up to follow excitedly sniffing around as they went up the stairs ….
Faun sighed as she wondered about the state of her room….
Oh no….she realized what a hurry she’d left in this morning —she’d missed the alarm getting up because she couldn’t sleep last night and when she finally did the sun was coming up and she missed the alarm —so the floor was a nightmare of this morning’s rejects of clothes and of course underwear ….God! How embarrassing —did she make the bed….?
She paced the kitchen and looked around for signs of anyone ….ohhh….
“Uh—Grant!” she suddenly shouted, “come here!”
And together, beast and human came running down the stairs,
Faun stood by the door where it joined the other kitchen—the doorway that lead out towards the ‘community area’ with the salmon couches.
She pointed to the floor—which was red brick—and what she pointed to —there was a clear outline of a muddied shoe—coming from that direction —it was a very big bootprint—and if the intruder hadn’t risked putting on the light, he’d not have known what he left of himself behind.
“That’s not my foot,” Grant said, matter-of-factly, “someone’s been here, I think.”
“Should we call Pierre Reaux?”
****
In the end, they settled on just calling Officer Sullivan and as he’d given them his official police ‘business’ card with the direct extension printed clearly on it, this seemed the better choice.
This time Officer Sullivan wasn’t as suspicious nor was he as unfriendly as before. If anything, he seemed glad of the interruption on his slow night, and had even chuckled saying so.
He came right over and looked around, letting King Leopold sniff him before following Grant upstairs ….and then through the kitchen doorway —pointing out the footprint before getting a guided tour with Grant, dog en-toe.
But, in the end, after some casual chatter with Grant about England he shrugged, filling out the report with Grant, whilst sealing up the lighter in a plastic baggie,
“I’ll run some prints, maybe, who knows? I’m glad the dog turned up—I wonder where he had gone ….well, let me know if anything else strange or unusual happens,” and then he left
“Well….” Grant shut the kitchen door that lead out to the porch and leaned on it thoughtfully.
“It is unsettling that someone has been here—“ Faun shuddered looking up at him
“Come here,” he said, even as she was only a few inches from him; he tugged just hard enough on her raincoat to make her fall against him, “maybe you shouldn’t be alone tonight—if you are scared,” he said this against her ear as he took hold of her head in his hands and added, “I promise to be a perfect gentleman,” and held back a laugh.
And her stomach growled again,
“I just realized I made a spinach quiche earlier—do you like tomato and basil? I think it came out tasting more like pizza,” she laughed as she went to the refrigerator, getting it out,
“that sounds great,” he said
She went to the oven and turning the dial and he followed her, pulling her against him when she had stood up from the oven. And then saying, “where were we?” running his hands up the back of her neck through her hair
But then—
“Wait right here,” he said suddenly and removed his hands from the thickness of her hair, regrettably dropping the weight before sliding his hands down her face, down her shoulders and arms to her waist then rested on her hips then went through the doorway through the other kitchen.
Soon he came back as she was shutting the oven door. He had two plain glasses and a bottle of wine,
“I was saving this for something but now seems the right time.”
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