Read Online Reilly 02 - Invasion of Privacy by Perri O'Shaughnessy - Free Book Online Page B

as a waiting room, breathed along with her in response to the sighs of wind outside. She heard no other sound.
    Standing in the doorway, completely rattled by now, Nina reconsidered. She did not want to go down the hall. The hall had a public feel to it suddenly, like a room with eyes. But what alternatives did she have? The living room opened only onto this hall and the entry foyer.
    Should she try to open a window and climb out? That made her think of the storm windows. She could not get out that way. Not quickly enough.
    Moments passed. The Bavarian cuckoo clock ticked in the kitchen. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there, but she couldn’t remain still another minute. Her nose itched; she needed to sneeze. To top it off, she heard the mushy sound of tires easing up the road, approaching the driveway.
    She ducked back into the living room to think about what to do. At the same moment, a thump near the hallway told her that someone was there. She hadn’t imagined anything. Someone was out there.
    Raising the ax in her right hand, she bolted toward the hall, her fear and rage exploding into one earsplitting, gut-spilling shriek.
    "What in holy hell happened?" Matt asked, once he had looked her over and reheated some coffee in the microwave, and Nina had assured him a number of times that she felt fine, aside from the large bump forming on the back of her head. "We go to the movies and come back to find you, lying on the floor, bleeding."
    She told him about her evening, starting at the beginning. "I guess somebody broke in while I was asleep. I heard your car coming up the driveway and I was scared—for everybody. I wanted to chase him off with the ax, I think. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do."
    "Could be he was just trying to get you out of the way so that he could escape," said Matt, his voice unusually hard-sounding. "Could be he intended to hurt you, but I interrupted. Why in God’s name did you have the ax? He could’ve used it on you."
    "I had to do something."
    "Anything missing?" Matt asked, working latches on the windows and doors.
    "Nothing I could see," said Andrea. "The police are on the way. Nina, when you feel up to it, you should check your room. Check your jewelry."
    "I’m really okay. I just wish I’d killed the bastard."
    She walked down the hall to her room. She let herself in, and stood gaping in the doorway at a scene of utter devastation.
    Her bedding lay strewn around the room. Something had slashed into the bed, dribbling her shampoos, creams, and makeup over the mattress. The contents of her room, her shoes, her clothing, her treasures, had all been shredded, cut, defaced.
    She moved slowly inside, toeing the remnants of her belongings, making a path for herself to the closet. Her clothes had been torn off hangers and flung to the floor. She checked her jewelry, which she kept in a silk bag on a shelf, now lying on the floor, one or two earrings smashed, but the full collection remained, as far as she could tell.
    Checking the dresser drawers didn’t take long, since they were empty—her bras and other underwear in blue, red, black, and beige ripped into confetti and thrown around the room as if in celebration.
    She backed into the hallway, slamming the door to her room, just as the front doorbell rang.
    The same two officers from the morning stood in the doorway. She invited them in to take a look.
    "Anything missing?" they asked, after picking their way around the room, making notes.
    "Nothing I can see except an old box full of souvenirs. The lid was pretty tight. He’s going to be disappointed when he gets a chance to check out his booty."
    "You keep saying ’he.’ Why?" the woman cop asked Nina. "Are you sure it was a man?"
    "Well, no, I guess I’m not. I guess I don’t know that."
    Back down the brightly lit street, back down to the wharf Bob walked, wearing his parka, his sweatshirt hood up. Fog had rolled in from the ocean, blurring the