Raked Over
Page 8
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I was startled awake in the dark. The security alarm was blaring. Scared, I turned on the bedside light, grabbed my little bedside can of Mace, got up, turned on the overhead light, and looked out into the hall. The phone rang—I hoped it was the alarm company. My hands were shaking. It was the alarm company. Yes, they’d had a report of an alarm going off; was I okay? The police were coming. By this time I was turning on every light I could as I walked into the main room. I was still shaking. With the alarm company still on the phone, I turned off the blaring horn, not able to think in the noise. It’s okay, I told myself. You’re okay; you’re okay.
Just then I saw a cop car drive up in front. Fast, I thought gratefully, and I opened the front door as the officers walked up the steps. One talked to me as the other searched the property, pretty much indicating to me that they didn’t expect to find anything. Encouraging, I thought. They said that whoever it was probably was just checking doors along the street, looking for mischief, and left the same way he came in—through the open gate.
I hadn’t closed the gate after I pulled in for the day. So, sure, anybody could sashay up the drive and set off the alarm anywhere. That narrowed it down, didn’t it? That made this the second time that day I had spaced something out. Stew-pid, I could hear actress Emma Thompson’s voice saying. What? Now that mentally superior voice has a British accent?
Was I losing it? Was the time going to come when I couldn’t remember more and more things, and I couldn’t take care of myself, and I was going wacko? Oy! My mind could go off into self-recrimination faster than Superman’s speeding bullet.
“Or it could be that a raccoon, or something, set it off,” said one of the helpful officers.
Paperwork completed, they assured me that they’d make a few extra runs by the property for the next couple of nights to keep an eye out. I thanked them, and they backed the squad car out of the drive and headed off down pot-holed Stone Street. I followed them down, rolled the creaky, rusted, metal gate closed, locked it, and went back into the house. I was wishing the dogs were with me as I left every light on, inside and out. I put water on for coffee because it was 4 a.m. and there was no way I was going back to sleep. It was going to be light in a couple of hours, and I was ready for it. Boy howdy, as my mother would say, was I ready for it.
CHAPTER FOUR