Read Online Something's Knot Kosher by Mary Marks - Free Book Online Page B

slightly backward—every muscle in his body poised to spring forward.
    Good dog . When Arthur attacked, I’d clock the guy on the skull with the frying pan.
    The knob clicked. My mouth felt like the surface of Mars.
    The door opened a crack.
    Where are the police? My vision narrowed and my heart raced like a bullet train.
    Arthur bared his fangs.
    Over the pounding in my ears, I heard several sirens approaching. Please God! Get here in time.
    The sirens grew louder and brakes screeched.
    A man’s voice cursed, “ Merde! ” Then footsteps ran away.
    I let out the breath I’d been holding. Thank God!
    The dog barked and tried to open the door wider with his paws. I grabbed his collar to keep him from going outside and slammed the door shut again. “Stay! We don’t know if he’s armed, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
    The well-trained police canine reluctantly obeyed.
    I hurried toward the closet and shouted, “He’s gone, Birdie.”
    She came out from behind the coats, sweating and clutching an umbrella with a pointed end. “This is the only thing I could find to defend myself with.”
    A heavy fist pounded on the front door. “FBI!” As I rushed to open the door, I saw a number of flashlights sweeping the darkness outside.
    Agent Kay Lancet from the FBI and two LAPD uniformed officers stood with their guns drawn.
    I pointed toward the laundry room in the rear of the kitchen. “Back there! A man tried to break in just now.”
    They rushed to the back door, looked outside, then walked back to where Birdie and I stood hugging each other. Agent Lancet holstered her gun. “Nobody’s there, but we’ve got agents and police officers searching the area. Did you see what he looked like? Which direction he went?”
    I shook my head. “I didn’t see him. My dog heard him, though, and alerted me.”
    Just then Beavers hurried through the front door. When he saw we were safe, he let out a breath and put his gun away. He turned to the FBI agent. “Can you tell me what you’ve got, Kay?”
    â€œNothing yet, Arlo. The guy’s gone. The vics never got a look at him.”
    Beavers turned to me. “You okay?”
    I reached down and stroked the dog’s head. “Yeah, thanks to Arthur.” I described our ordeal, stopping to answer an occasional question. “You know, just before the guy left, he said something odd.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHe swore in French.”
    Lancet regarded me for a moment and wrote something in her notepad. “This confirms one of the witness statements. He said the robber spoke with a foreign accent.”
    As my pulse returned to normal, the sharp fingers of a migraine dug into the right side of my brain, and my whole body throbbed with a fibromyalgia flare-up. “Excuse me. I’ve got to take something for this headache.” I found my pain meds in my purse and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water.
    When I returned to the living room, Lancet snapped her cell phone shut. “The crime scene techs are on their way over to dust for prints.” She focused on Birdie. “They’re the best in the world, Mrs. Watson. If the burglar left behind any evidence, they’ll find it. Meanwhile, you might want to leave the house for your own safety. We can offer you protection.”
    Birdie pressed her lips together. “I won’t be forced out of my own home. Anyway, he won’t be coming back tonight.”
    Beavers grunted and walked with Lancet toward the back door, talking in a hushed voice. Arthur followed behind.
    Birdie’s phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID. “It’s Lucy.” She switched on the speaker. “Hello, dear.”
    â€œThank God you’re alive! As soon as Ray and I heard the sirens, we rushed over, but the police won’t let us in. We’re standing in front of your house. What