Blake's Pursuit (Scanguards Vampires, #11)(4)
“Maybe two or three days.”
Blake felt heat rise to his head. “And you didn’t tell me earlier?”
“I didn’t even notice at first. I mean, the Vüber drivers don’t have fixed hours. They accept the fares as they come in. I figured she was taking a few days off, since she worked over Christmas.”
“Did you call her?”
“She’s not picking up her phone. Goes straight to voicemail.”
“Has anybody checked her house?”
Finn shook his head. “Can’t spare anybody right now. It’s really busy. And maybe she just forgot to set her app to the Away mode. I don’t wanna intrude if she’s just taking time off.”
Blake nodded, worried and anxious. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to shoot the messenger. “I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, send the details of her last fare to my phone.”
“Will do.” Finn turned on his heel and rushed away, clearly relieved at being allowed to leave.
Blake didn’t waste time either. He marched to the elevator and pressed the call button. As he waited, he tried to calm himself. Maybe Hannah had just forgotten to tell Finn’s team that she wasn’t working for a few days. But as much as he wanted to believe in that scenario, he knew better.
Hannah was too generous and charitable for her own good. She’d probably helped somebody and gotten in trouble as a result. Just like she’d helped him on that wet March day four years ago. The day he would have died, had it not been for Hannah’s fearless action.
3
Lilo towel-dried her blond hair, before reaching for her hairbrush to comb the damp strands into submission. Normally she’d let it air-dry, but since she was planning to go to the nearest police station and didn’t want to freeze, she bent down to the cabinet below the sink and pulled Hannah’s hairdryer from it. She was about to plug it in and switch it on, when she heard a sound coming from the other room.
She froze mid-movement, her heart skipping a beat.
Had Hannah come home? She listened, instinctively, hoping against hope it was her friend. If it was Hannah, she would see the suitcase and know she had a visitor. Judging by the stickers on Lilo’s luggage—stickers Hannah had sent her from her numerous trips—she would also know immediately who it was.
Lilo waited another two seconds, but whoever was in the other room didn’t call out her name. It couldn’t be Hannah.
It was an intruder, probably a burglar. It had to be. She’d written enough mystery novels to know how this would go down: he’d steal everything valuable in sight, including her handbag and computer, which would leave her stranded. And she already had enough problems to deal with. Getting her valuables stolen wasn’t on the agenda tonight.
She stretched her hand toward the glass shelf above the sink, reaching for her phone, but stopped.
Crap, she cursed silently.
Her cell phone was still in her handbag in the living room, out of reach—which meant she couldn’t call the police for help. She had no choice. She’d have to take the initiative and surprise the guy. Most burglars, she knew from her research, turned tail and ran the moment they realized they weren’t alone. She’d just have to make enough noise to wake the neighbors should the guy not flee instantly.
Gripping the hairdryer more tightly, she looked down at herself. It would help if she weren’t dressed in Hannah’s short pink bathrobe. Oh well. She’d have to confront the intruder dressed as she was. She’d left her clothes in the living room because there was no space for them in the tiny bathroom without risking getting them wet.
Just pretend you’re Morgan West. The protagonist of her popular bounty hunter mystery series would definitely not be quaking in his boots the way she was right now. Then again, in her defense, she wasn’t wearing any boots. She was barefoot. Great, she was about to become the main character in a horror movie: a scantily dressed blonde, without shoes, running for her life. Could this situation get any more pathetic?
Stop it, she admonished herself silently. If only her imagination wasn’t so active; she could come up with all kinds of possible scenarios for this moment, all of them turning out badly. Sometimes it was a curse to be a mystery writer: she knew too much about the dangerous and evil elements of society. Elements like the burglar she could now hear clearly rummaging through the living room. In a few minutes, he’d be gone and with him, her handbag and computer.
It’s now or never.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the doorknob with her left hand while gripping the hairdryer tightly in her right. At least she could hit the guy with it if he approached her.
Lilo eased the door open just enough so she could peer out into the short hallway. But she couldn’t see anybody from that angle. Cautiously, she opened the door wider and took one step forward. Beneath her bare foot, the old wooden floorboard creaked. The sound seemed to echo loudly, though that could just be the result of her nervous, overactive imagination.
Another step and she was in the hallway. The part of the living room she could see was empty. Her suitcase was still where she’d left it, though somebody had rifled through the contents, tossing them onto the floor next to it.
That proved it. It was definitely not Hannah who’d entered the apartment. Slowly and silently, she stalked into the living room, staying as close to the wall as she could, before peeking around the corner so she could see the entire room. It was empty. The small reading light she’d turned on earlier was still burning, but otherwise it was dark, probably giving the intruder the impression the apartment was empty.