The Ex by Freida McFadden(64)

On my way! Will be there in 10.

She smiles. Maybe he isn’t her Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights but he’s a great guy and she likes him a lot. That’s enough.

Cassie tosses her purse on the table by her front door. She does this every night of the week, but tonight, something is different. She hears a crash.

A blue ceramic vase toppled to the floor when she put her purse on the table. It’s lying in pieces all over the hardwood floor. Cassie winces, not eager to clean up the mess. The pieces have gone absolutely everywhere.

But that’s not the worst part.

Cassie doesn’t keep that vase on the table by the door. She’s ninety-nine percent sure that vase is always on top of the short bookcase. And it’s not like she’s got a roommate here who might have moved it.

So why is the vase now by the door?

She stares at the pieces of the vase, her brow furrowed. Maybe Joel moved it. She doesn’t have a roommate, but he’s here so often, he may as well be. She’s not sure why he’d do such a thing, but who knows? Certainly, it’s the most likely explanation. The only other explanation is…

Someone else was in her apartment.

Cassie’s breath catches in her throat. Is that possible? Could someone have been in here? And if so, how? And why would they have moved her vase?

Zoe also has the key to her apartment. Maybe it was Zoe. Maybe she wanted a little privacy with a guy and decided to use Cassie’s apartment. Cassie wouldn’t be happy about that, but it would be a relief to discover it was just her friend taking advantage and nothing more nefarious.

Cassie pulls her phone out of her purse. She sends off a text to Zoe: Were you in my apartment recently? I won’t be upset, just want to know.

Just as she sends the text, Cassie jerks up her head. Was that a noise?

Is someone in here right now?

Cassie’s heart is pounding. She shoves her phone into her pocket and backs up into the kitchen, searching for a weapon. Her fingers close around the handle of one of her carving knives. She doesn’t use it much so it’s surely sharp, although she’s having trouble figuring out what she’d do with it. That is, she knows you stab people with a knife, but she’s having trouble imagining herself stabbing another human being.

And what is she doing grabbing a knife in the first place? If she truly thinks someone is in her apartment, she should call 911 and get the hell out of here.

But she’s embarrassed. What is she going to tell the police? I’m afraid because a vase wasn’t where I left it. And of course, she doesn’t want the police nosing around her apartment.

Just check the bedroom and the bathroom, then you’ll feel better.

Cassie creeps down the hallway to her bedroom and bathroom. The door to the bedroom is open and she peeks her head inside. It seems empty. She clutches the knife in her hand, as she walks slowly over to the closet. The door is slightly ajar, and before she loses her nerve, she yanks it open.

Her clothes are hanging up, just as they had been this morning. And at the bottom of the closet is Grandpa Marv’s little dresser. She opens one of the drawers, checking the contents, and lets out a sigh of relief that everything is just as she’d left it.

Now she just needs to check the bathroom.

She pushes the door ajar. It’s empty, although the curtains are drawn on the shower. Did she leave them drawn this morning? She can’t remember. But she doesn’t think she did. She hates drawn shower curtains because they scare her.

Cassie’s phone buzzes inside her pocket. She pulls it out with a trembling hand and sees the text from Zoe:

Nope. Haven’t been over in ages. Want to have a movie night?

So it wasn’t Zoe who moved the vase. It was someone else.

Oh my God, is something rustling behind those shower curtains?

Cassie backs up, her heart slamming in her chest so hard that it hurts. She should run. If she has any inkling there’s a person in her shower, she needs to get the hell out of here. But she feels frozen. And then…

The doorbell rings.

The noise makes Cassie jolt nearly off the ground. But after her initial startle, she feels flooded with relief. It’s Joel. Joel is here. Thank God.

She races over to the door to open it for him, even though he’s got the key. When she sees him standing there, dressed in green scrubs like always, she throws her arms around him. He laughs and hugs her back.

“What’s that for?” he says.

“I think there could be someone in my apartment,” she whispers.

He pulls away. That’s when he notices the knife she’s still clutching and his eyes grow wide. “What?”

“I heard something in the bathroom. A noise…”

“Jesus,” he says. “You think it’s an intruder? Did you call the police?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to overreact. I mean, it could be… a mouse.”

Joel looks at the knife in her hand. “Give me that. I’ll go look.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to call the police?”

He raises his eyebrows at her. “So you were going to go check it out with a knife, but you’re scared to let me do it?”

Hmm. Good point.

Joel strides in the direction of the bathroom so quickly, she can tell he’s not scared there’s actually someone in there. When they get to the bathroom, the curtain is still drawn as it was before. It doesn’t look any different. He hesitates for a split-second, then yanks open the curtain.