Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [248]
She noticed her bags at the bottom of the staircase, still packed from her Kansas City trip. Boxes remained stacked in the corners. Her nerves felt as if they had been rubbed raw. A knot tightened at the base of her neck and her head throbbed. She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten. It had probably been on the flight last night.
She considered changing and going for a run. It was getting dark but that had never stopped her before. No, what did stop her was knowing Stucky could be watching. Had he returned from Kansas City? Was he out there somewhere hiding, waiting, watching? She paced from window to window, examining the street and then the woods behind her house, squinting to study the twilight shadows dancing behind the trees. She searched for anything out of the ordinary, anything that moved, but in the light breeze every rustle of a bush, every sway of a branch made her uneasy. She could already feel her muscles tightening, her nerves unraveling.
Earlier she had noticed a construction worker at the end of her street inspecting sewage grates and setting up pylons. His coveralls had been too clean, his shoes too polished. Maggie knew immediately that he had to be one of Cunningham’s surveillance crew. How the hell did Cunningham expect to catch Stucky with such amateurish strategies? If Maggie had been able to see through the impostor, certainly Stucky, a professional chameleon, would find it laughable. Stucky took on identities and roles with such ease that surely he would spot someone doing the same thing, only doing it poorly.
She hated feeling like a caged animal in her own home. To make matters worse, the house was deathly quiet. Other than the clicking of her heels on the polished wood floor, Maggie heard nothing. No lawn mowers, no car engines, no children playing. But wasn’t the peace and quiet, a piece of seclusion, exactly what she longed for when she bought this house? Hadn’t that been her intention? What was that old saying—be careful what you wish for?
She unearthed her CD player, an inexpensive oversize boom box. She dug through the overflowing box of CDs. Some were in sealed wrappers, gifts from friends she hadn’t taken time to open, let alone enjoy. Finally she decided on an early Jim Brickman, hoping the piano solos would soothe her agitated insides. The music barely began when Maggie noticed Susan Lyndell making her way up the circular drive. It looked as though there would be no stress relief.
She opened the door before Susan made it up the steps to the portico. Her eyes darted everywhere but at Susan, checking, double-checking.
“How was your trip?” Susan asked as though they were old friends.
“It was fine.” Maggie grabbed the woman’s elbow gently and quickly urged her into the foyer.
Susan stared at her, surprised. On her first visit Maggie had barely let the woman through the door, and now she was pulling her in.
“I got back late last night,” Maggie continued, closing the door. All she could think about was Stucky watching. Stucky choosing his next victim.
“I tried to call but you’re not listed yet.”
“No, I’m not,” she said with finality in case Susan expected she might tell her. “Did you speak with Detective Manx?”
“Actually, that’s what I wanted to tell you. I think I was mistaken about what we discussed the other day.”
“Why do think you were mistaken?” Maggie waited while her neighbor glanced around at her stacked cartons, taking in Maggie’s living room and probably wondering how Maggie could ever afford such a house.
“I spoke with Sid,” Susan told her, finally looking at Maggie, though she still seemed distracted by Maggie’s things, or rather her lack of things.
“Mr. Endicott? What exactly did you speak to him about?”
“Sid’s a good man. I hate to see him going through this all alone. I felt he had a right to know. Well, you know…about Rachel and that man.”
“The telephone