“I don’t know. I started out wanting to comfort you when you were crying, and I ended up trying to seduce you. About halfway through, it became obvious that I wasn’t going to be able to hide my…feelings.”

Maggie smiled. “You have a point. Your feelings were pretty obvious.”

“And you’re wrong about Skogen. It’s a nice place to live. I think you need to get to know some of the people here. They aren’t so bad. They like to gossip, but there isn’t anything mean in it. It’s just recreation. We don’t have a movie theater or a shopping mall, so folks around here spend their time passing along false information.”

“I don’t know if I want to meet any more Skogenians.”

She knew she didn’t have a good attitude. After all, she had an obligation to fulfill as his wife.

“Okay, I take that back. I want to meet the locals. What did you have in mind? I hope it’s not another dinner party.”

“There’s a dance at the grange Friday night.” Did he just say that? He hated dances.

“A dance?” Her face brightened. “I love dances. What kind of a dance is it?”

Damned if he knew. He’d never been to one. “It’s just your average dance, I guess. Elmo Feeley and Andy Snell and some others have a band.”

“A live band? And the dance floor, is it wood?”

“It might be.”


Hours later Maggie lay wide-eyed in bed, unable to sleep. She was in love, of course. And of course she’d never admit it to Hank because falling in love with Hank Mallone was a no-win situation.

Still, it was exciting. It was also terrifying. Not terrifying in a daredevil sort of way. That kind of danger had never bothered her. This was real terror. The kind she carried around in the pit of her stomach. The kind that gnawed at her during quiet moments when her mind was unoccupied. Hank Mallone was capable of breaking her heart, and that was much more dangerous than writing a dirty word on a grade school door.

There were slippered footsteps in the hall, and Maggie heard her doorknob turn very slowly, very carefully. There was no light in her room and no light in the hall. Nothing was visible in the dark when the door opened, but Maggie sensed it was Elsie. She was the only one who wore slippers.

“Don’t move,” Elsie whispered. “And don’t say anything. There’s a man climbing a ladder up to your window.”

“What?”

“Shhhh! I said to keep quiet. I’m gonna fix this guy’s wagon. When I get done with him, he isn’t gonna be climbing ladders for a long time.”

That was when Maggie saw the barrel of the gun glint in the blackness. Elsie was right beside her, and she was holding a gun with two hands the way Maggie had seen on the cop shows. “Don’t worry about a thing,” Elsie said. “I’ve done this before. I know just where to aim.”

A black shape appeared in the far window. A knife sliced along the perimeter of the window screen, and Maggie was able to see that it was a man, and that he was wearing something over his face. A stocking maybe. She and Elsie were hidden in the shadows of the room, but the intruder was slightly backlit from a sliver of moon. He leaned forward to enter the room, and Elsie pulled the trigger.

Maggie thought it had to be like standing next to a howitzer. The blast was deafening, there was a flash of fire from the gun barrel, the smell of smoke and gun oil stung her nostrils, and the man at the window screamed in fright and instantly disappeared. There was a solid thunk as his body hit the ground, followed by the clatter of the ladder falling on top of him.

“Dang, I got excited and shot too soon,”

Elsie said. “He wasn’t even halfway through the window. I probably only shot him in the heart.”

Hank rushed into the room, zipping his jeans. “What the devil was that?”

“Elsie shot some guy on a ladder,” Maggie said. “He was trying to get into my room.”

Hank went to the window and looked through the slashed screen. “I don’t think he’s shot too bad. I can see him taking off through the orchard. In fact, I don’t think he’s shot at all since there’s a hole the size of a grapefruit in the wall here. How many shots did you fire, Elsie?”

“Just one. He didn’t hang around long enough for me to squeeze off another.”

“Anybody get a decent look at him?”

“The big sissy was wearing panty hose on his head,” Elsie said. “I couldn’t hardly see him.”

“I didn’t see him very well either,” Maggie said. “But he seemed bigger than the last man. I think this was someone different. And his scream was different.”

“I heard him sneaking around the house,” Elsie said. “By the time I got to a window, he was already on the ladder. So I grabbed Little Leroy here and headed for Maggie’s room.”

Hank gently removed the gun from Elsie’s hand and emptied the bullets. “Little Leroy?”

“When I was living in Washington, I bought it at a yard sale. The man who sold me the gun said he called it Little Leroy because it was big and bad just like this friend of his named Leroy.”

“Maybe you’d like to leave Little Leroy with me for safekeeping,” Hank said.

Elsie retrieved the gun and tucked it into her bathrobe pocket. “I don’t go anywhere without Little Leroy. Old ladies got to protect themselves. It isn’t like I could give some guy a karate chop, you know. I don’t move as fast as I used to. Sometimes I get arthritis in my knee when it’s going to rain.”

She turned and shuffled toward the stairs “I’m going to make myself a meat loaf sandwich. I always get an appetite when I get woken up in the middle of the night like this.”

Hank pulled the shades on the windows and drew the curtains. “Where’s Horatio? He was supposed to be sleeping in here?”

“He went under the bed when Elsie blasted that poor man off the ladder. I think he’s still under there.”

“Can’t blame him,” Hank said. “I don’t know who’s more of a threat-the guys that are breaking into this house, or Elsie and her cannon.”

“Maybe we should call the police.”

“I told Gordie Pickens about the first break-in. He’s the sheriff for this part of the county. If I call him now, I’ll probably wake him up. I’ll file a report in the morning.”

And tomorrow I’ll go into town and see who’s walking with a limp, he thought. Someone would be sore from falling off that ladder.

“This is too much of a coincidence,” Maggie said. “Someone’s after the diary.”

“Have you got the diary in a safe place?”

“Between my mattress and box spring.”

Hank stretched out on the bed. “Good. Then I can stay right here and protect you and the diary, all at the same time.”

Maggie squinted at him in the darkness. “And who’s going to protect me from you?”

“You don’t need any protection from me. I’m doing my hero thing to night. I’m going to stay by your side and keep you safe.”

“To tell you the truth I don’t think I’m in too much danger. These people don’t seem very bright to me. I don’t think we’re dealing with hardened criminals.”

“Yeah. Their second-story skills are definitely lacking.”

“You think it could be a prank? You know, someone’s idea of a joke?”

“Hard to believe. Even in my most rebellious stage I never did breaking and entering. Anyway, what ever the motive, I think Elsie did a pretty good job of discouraging them.”

“Then why are you staying here?”

“I don’t want to pass up an excuse to crawl into bed with you.” He reached out and pulled her snugly against him. “How’s this? Is this comfortable?”

“Actually…”

“Good,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “We can look at this like a trial run. This is how we’d sleep if we were lovers, but of course, we wouldn’t have any clothes on. You’ll have to use your imagination about the clothes,” he whispered into her hair.

“Don’t start.”

“It was just something I thought I should bring to your attention. Details are important, you know.”

“Uh-huh.”

He threw his leg over hers and curled his hand around her rib cage. “Can you imagine how my hand would feel on you if you were naked?”

“You’re doing it again! You’re trying to seduce me!”

“I know. I’m a scourge.”

“You told me you were going to be a hero to night.”

“Oh man, are you going to hold me to that?” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, you’re right. I said I was going to be a hero, so I’ll be a hero, but I want you to know it’s damn hard being a hero. I hope you appreciate this.”

“Are you going to sleep now?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

They lay together in silence for some time. Horatio stretched under the bed; Fluffy curled in an old-fashioned rocker. Downstairs, a mantel clock ticked away the hours. The darkness was thick and velvety, the air heavy with the orchard smells that drifted through the open window.

Maggie felt Hank relax, heard his breathing turn slow and steady. He was asleep. This was something else she could easily get used to, she decided. She liked this quiet part of sleeping with a man. She liked the warmth and security, the silent companionship. She was an extravagant personality, but she enjoyed the small pleasures of life the best. She liked to watch her cat stretch, liked to lick the beaters when she made whipped cream, liked the way Hank’s arm felt as it possessively draped across her.

She lay there for a while longer, absorbing the plea sure of Hank’s nearness, and little by little a different sort of plea sure stole into her. Little by little desire pushed the contentment aside and wanting took over. The wanting burned behind her skin and ached deep in her loins. She had never wanted like this before. Not with this unrelenting intensity. Not from simply being next to a man.

She moved against him; pressing her lips to his heated flesh. Her hand slid along the muscle-hard plane of his belly. Her breasts weighed heavy on him. She felt him stir, sensed a change in his breathing.