In a Heartbeat - Elizabeth Adler [97]
He stepped directly into the living room. It was lit by a couple of fringed lamps and was empty. From upstairs came the blare of a TV, and from the room to the left came the familiar smell of Chinese takeout. The kitchen, he guessed.
Gus palmed the Sigma .40, fitted with a silencer; this would be easy, it would be over in seconds. . . .
He listened for sounds of life. Nothing. Except . . . wait, what was that? He strained his ears, heard a faint scratching sound. Then a deep, heartfelt sigh.
Riley was sitting at the kitchen table, doing her homework, which tonight consisted of writing an essay on the merits of dogs versus cats. It was tough; she was so definitely a dog person because of Lola, who was, of course, dog perfection, and therefore she was having a hard time being totally fair to cats, which she liked a lot, but in her view they couldn’t compete with dogs. She shoved her hands through her bronze curls, glaring despairingly at the single paragraph she had written.
Dogs are better because cats don’t go for walks with you, and they don’t play catch at the beach, and they don’t like chicken chow mein, and Lola likes all three. And I like Lola because she is my dog, even though she bites. Just little bites though, and I know she really doesn’t mean it, it’s just her way of saying hello. Mom says she should learn better manners, but somehow, she just never does.
She was wondering if she had spelled “chow mein” right, when she heard the footsteps. She glanced up, expecting to see Harriet, who was in the back bedroom watching TV, with Lola asleep on the bed next to her. Harriet had said she was beat tonight, after a long day moving stuff, and Riley was running late with her homework, due to a TV program Harriet had allowed her to stay up and watch, plus the takeout Chinese, which was one of her favorites.
When she saw Gus, her eyes bugged and her mouth dropped into an O of surprise.
Gus stared, shocked, back at her. Then she reacted.
“Harriet!” she screamed. “Harriet, there’s a man here. . . .”
Gus heard Harriet’s feet pounding down the stairs and the yap of a dog. He stepped quickly behind the kitchen door, the Sigma cocked. He hated to do it in front of the kid, but he had no choice.
Harriet burst into the kitchen, preceded by Lola, and Riley just stared at her, frozen with shock. But not Lola. The dog sniffed Gus out, took a running jump, and got him in the thigh.
Gus flung the dog off him and backed up. The gun wavered for a second, and, instinctively, Harriet grabbed Riley. She thrust the child behind her, edging toward the door. Her heart was in her throat and her eyes were wide with terror. All she knew was she had to get out, run to the neighbors, call 911.
The dog still had its teeth in Gus’s leg and he slammed the gun on its head and watched as it fell back with a whimper.
Riley dashed from behind Harriet and flung herself onto the floor next to the inert dog. “You’ve killed her,” she screamed at Gus. “That’s my dog, mister, and God will surely punish you for this.”
Sweat rolled down Gus’s neck. He was out of his league. This wasn’t the way he had planned it. But then, he had never had to deal with a kid and a dog before, or at least not this dog. Attack Dobermans he could handle.
He pointed the gun at Harriet. Riley’s horrified eyes followed. “Ohh noooo!” she screamed. And then she tackled him like a Green Bay Packers fullback, taking him by surprise and bringing him down.
Gus kicked her away. He was dripping with sweat. This was turning into a farce. He hadn’t even seen the woman he was meant to kill.
Harriet leaped at him. She wrestled for the gun, he gave her a chopping blow to the neck, and she dropped to the floor.
“Oh no, oh noo,” the kid was yelling. “Nooo, Harriet.