When she finally settles back at her computer, I decide it’s time to take action. I still need to pull this off quickly and smoothly. Next to a freshly dug flower bed, a shovel catches my eye and inspires a plan. I grab the shovel and approach the back door. Through the glass panes in the door, I can plainly see into the empty kitchen. I place my knife in my waist band and dial her number once more.
Annabelle has just settled back at the computer when the ringing of the phone disturbs her a second time. The sooner she buys another set of telephones the better, she thinks, and then she won’t have to keep traipsing out of her study to answer it. “Hello?” She hears that annoying automated silence again and curses the wretched sales people who she believes are calling her.
Again Lang remains silent… While she’s still in the hall, he grabs the shovel and swings it hard at the back door, shattering the glass which cascades noisily onto the kitchen floor. Without hesitation, he tosses the shovel into the grass. Then immediately drawing his knife with one hand while reaching through the door with his other hand, he unlocks the door. Turning quickly he flattens his back against the outside wall. Hidden from Annabelle in this manner he waits… listening intently.
Annabelle hears the loud shattering crash from the kitchen and freezes. Hell! That sounds like a window breaking…. Her unease turns to curiosity. Inquisitively, she takes a few strides swiftly down the hall before fear takes hold of her again and she stops. Standing just inside her kitchen, she hesitates uncertainly….
Lang hears her footsteps lightly tapping down the hall and entering the kitchen, but it’s silent after that. He grips his knife tighter, tries to control his breathing and heart rate. Why is she so quiet? Did she flee to the front door? She couldn’t have, I would have heard her leave the room like I heard her enter it. No, she’s just being cautious. Be patient, she will open the door.
The faint sound of glass being ground into the hard floor disrupts Lang’s thoughts. She is there after all. His adrenaline pumps even faster. His pounding heart makes it difficult to hear what’s happening inside the house. He knows she’s close now; he can smell her perfume wafting through the broken window. She’s right there… I can feel her! Come on, open the door. He can feel his impatience building. He can’t wait! He grips his knife tightly and reaches for the doorknob…