Head Over Heels (11 page)

R
uss paced the floor, unable to sit still.

He didn't even wait for the doorbell to ring. The second she turned off her engine, he opened the door. He could tell the exact moment she saw him. She froze, then, instead of walking, she jogged up the sidewalk. He stepped backward to give her room to get into the hallway, closing the door once she was inside.

“What's wrong?” she panted.

“Someone broke into my house while I was at the youth center today.”

She pressed both hands over her mouth. “Oh, no! What was stolen?” she gasped.

Russ ran his fingers through his hair. “That's the strange thing. Nothing.”

Her hands drifted down. “That's good. I guess you scared them off when you got home.”

He swept one hand in the air in the direction of his neighbor's house. “No. I didn't. The neighbors told me
that my alarm went off about an hour and a half ago. They didn't see anything. They said there wasn't a strange car parked on the street or in my driveway, they didn't see anyone hanging around, and since there weren't any open windows they didn't call the cops—they thought it was a false alarm. The only reason they phoned me was to complain about the noise.”

Marielle drew her hands into balls and rested her fists on her hips. “That's awful! But at least your neighbors scared them off. How much damage was done to your house?”

“None, actually.”

Her head tipped to one side. “Let me get this straight. Nothing was stolen, no damage was done to your house, and the neighbors didn't see anyone.”

“That's right. But I know someone was here. Because of the computer. The keyboard isn't where I left it. I always push it forward when I'm done because I hot-sync my PDA every time I power it down. That way what I've finished working on is backed up. But when I got home, after the neighbors told me the alarm had gone off, the first thing I did after I made sure Fred was okay was run in here to see if someone stole my computer. It wasn't stolen, but it definitely had been used. It was properly turned off, but someone had turned it on and was using it while they were here.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“I know. But that doesn't negate the fact that it happened.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“I have my e-mail program loaded so it opens on
start-up and downloads my new messages. When I turned it on, there were messages on it that I hadn't read, and the time they were downloaded was about the same as when my neighbor said the alarm went off.”

“But that doesn't make any sense. You'd think if someone broke in, they would turn everything to be marked as unread to cover their tracks.”

“I'm guessing they were in a rush and didn't want to take the time with the alarm blaring.”

“But what about a password? If you work from home sometimes, don't you need to keep your computer secure?”

“No. When I work from home, I network up into the company's server. For that, I need a password. But it's a pain to have to log in with a password every time I log in to my own computer at home, just for personal stuff. Do you set a password to log in to your home computer?”

“Well… No…”

“See?”

“Never mind that. Have you called the police?”

He ran his fingers through his hair again. “Yes. But there was no sign of forced entry, nothing was stolen, and no one saw anything, so they told me it would be pointless to come down.”

“Are you sure? Maybe some friend or relative was here to see you, and they used your computer while they were waiting, but you didn't show up by the time they had to go.”

“That's not likely. No one has a key except my mother, and she doesn't live in town. She also knows my security code. There wasn't a car in the driveway.
Anyone I know would park in the driveway and knock on the door. As well, anyone who knew me would phone me on my cell phone for the code to shut off the alarm, not just let it scream until it automatically reset. No one called. But you're right about the key. That's the only way someone could get in quickly without breaking a lock or a window. Remember when my keys were missing this afternoon? I think someone took them, came here, checked out my place, then put the keys back, hoping I wouldn't notice they were gone.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“But it's the only way this could have happened. There were lots of people there we didn't know, and for most of the time, everyone was milling around freely. It would have been easy to scoop up my keys, and just as easy to put them back later.” He turned and stared at his computer. “It just doesn't make sense that someone would go to all that trouble and then leave without taking anything. It would have been the perfect crime.”

“Why did you ask me to come?”

“If someone had my keys, they could have made copies. The only thing that they couldn't have duplicated was the key to my SUV—that has to be obtained at the dealer. But for everything else…” He sighed. “I don't want to leave the house again thinking someone could wait for me to go, and then waltz in with a key. After one apparent false alarm, if it happened a second time, my neighbors wouldn't even look to see if anything was going on. I want someone to be here while I go to the hardware store. I'm going to change all the locks tonight, including the lock on my shed in the
backyard where I keep my lawn mower and stuff.” He stilled. “I actually never looked in the shed. I wonder if everything is still in there, since everything in the house is apparently intact…”

Then he shook his head. “No. My neighbor didn't see anything, and he surely would have noticed someone going down the street with a lawn mower. Would you mind staying here while I go to the hardware store? You can watch television, or I have a bunch of DVDs—you can watch a movie if I've got anything you haven't seen.”

“Sure. I can stay.”

“Great.” He checked his watch. “I have to go now. The only place that's open right now is going to close in half an hour. Make yourself at home. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

He left the house and drove to the home center discount store as quickly as possible without getting a speeding ticket. Following the list he'd made of all the locks in his house, he filled the buggy with everything he needed and was on his way to the checkout, but at the end of the aisle, he skidded to a halt.

Against the wall was the key-cutting booth.

He stared at it for a couple of seconds, steeled his nerve, then approached the young clerk, who was slouched in a tall chair, over-chewing her gum and reading a book. “Excuse me. Can you tell me if anyone was in here about two hours ago to get a bunch of keys made?”

She snapped her gum and looked at him like he was daft. “Lots of people come in here to get keys made, mister.”

“No. I mean like more than one.”

“Yeah. Lots of people.”

He tried to tamp his frustration, which was already near his limit. “But did anyone come in here tonight and ask for a copy of three different keys at the same time.”

“Probably.”

Russ pulled his key chain out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. “Does this particular set of keys look familiar? Did anyone come in and get copies of these ones?”

She picked up the key chain, ran her fingers over his house key, the shed key and the key that led from the garage into the house. She then poked at the antique car key-chain fob his sister had given him. “Yeah. I seen these here before. Nice car.”

“Can you describe the person who had the keys made?”

“Mister, I get, like, a dozen people an hour. I can't remember everyone.”

Russ didn't mention that since he'd been there, not a single other person had requested a key made. “Let's start with the basics, then. Was the person male or female.”

She snapped the gum again. “Female.”

For some reason, Russ found that odd, but stranger things had happened. “Can you describe her?”

“I see too many people each night to do that.”

Russ knew that by arguing, he would lose any advantage he had. “Then do you remember what color hair she had?”

“Nope.”

“What she was wearing?”

“I'm not the fashion police. I just make keys. You
want more of those, I can do that. But ya gotta hurry. We, like, close in five minutes. I need a couple of minutes.”

Russ picked up his key chain. “No, enough copies were made as it is. Thanks for your help.”

His patience continued to wear thin as he waited in line along with the other last-minute shoppers. He tried to remember all the girls who had been at the youth center. He knew some a little, but he didn't know them all, and those whom he did know, he didn't know well.

He certainly didn't understand why someone would go to such trouble just to use his computer, although now that he had purchased the new locks, he could take the time to try to figure out what the girl who had invaded his home was doing on his computer. The first thing he intended to do was check to see if she'd gone to any porno Web sites, and next, he would call up a complete history and see if his name had been entered or mentioned anywhere.

The possibilities for theft were endless. He also would have to see if anything he'd purchased online had allowed her to access his credit card number in his system's cache. He was always careful about the number, but it was just his home computer, so sometimes at home he got sloppy. If that happened, he worried that he'd have a terrible charge bill at the end of the month.

With each possibility that entered his mind, the checkout line seemed to go more and more slowly. By the time he paid for his new locks, he was so anxious to get home that he ran through the parking lot to his
SUV. This time, he drove home knowing he was going too fast, but he couldn't slow down. If his credit card was stored in his computer's memory, he had to find out and stop any transactions.

He only hoped that if anything had been done, the girl who had done it had carelessly entered her own name and address. Then, he would have his perpetrator, caught red-handed.

When he walked to his door, bag in hand, the front door was locked, which was good. He didn't have a dog to bark when a stranger came to the door, so if the girl dared to come back, at least Marielle would hear the lock being opened and be able to do something.

Russ felt too strange about knocking on his own door, so he used his key—the last time he would ever use that particular key.

Marielle wasn't waiting for him, nor did she call out his name to make sure it was him who was coming in.

Russ hurried to the living room. He opened his mouth to call her, but at the last second, he snapped it shut.

The television was playing quietly, a cup of tea rested on a magazine on the coffee table, and Marielle was lying on his couch, fast asleep.

With his lizard lying on her stomach, also sleeping.

The woman had made herself at home, just like he'd said.

He set the bag containing the new locks down on the coffee table as gently as he could, hoping not to make any noise.

He didn't often have people over to his house. He was
usually too busy to make much in the way of plans. Sometimes he went out with his friends, but most evenings he was too tired after a long day at work, so he simply stayed home alone. But Marielle was obviously comfortable. She even looked like she belonged there.

Many times, Russ had wondered what it would be like to have a wife, someone who would be there when he got home; someone who would share his life, and whose life he could share in return. Someone he would just be happy to sit and spend time with, without the need to talk—just being together would be good enough.

But it wasn't going to happen. He was nearly thirty, too old for such ridiculous fantasies. Real life wasn't like that. He had his career and all its demands. One day he might settle down, but first he would make sure all loose ends were tied up, and there would never, ever be the chance that he could lose it all—the way his mother had. He would never put anyone through what he went through, adult or child.

Marielle made a soft snore, then settled back down into deep, even breathing. Fred continued to lie on her stomach, not moving.

Russ crossed his arms and watched the two of them.

Not that he dated much, but not a single woman he'd ever gone out with had touched his lizard, never mind picked Fred up and had a nap with him.

He remembered Marielle's reaction when he told her that he had a lizard for a pet. He liked that she hadn't stuck to her preconceived ideas, and that she trusted him enough to check Fred out without condemning the lizard.

Just like she didn't condemn him.

He approached her and bent down to retrieve his lizard, but stopped short. His fingers would definitely brush her as he reached beneath the lizard's stomach to pick him up. He didn't want to invade her space by touching her when she was unaware of his presence.

“Marielle? Wake up. I'm back.”

Her eyes fluttered open. She began to move like she was going to sit up, but as soon as she became aware of her surroundings, she rested one hand on the lizard and lay back down.

“I'm so embarrassed. I don't know how I fell asleep. I guess you can tell that curiosity got the best of me and I picked up your lizard.”

Russ smiled. “He likes you. You must be a good heat source.”

He couldn't help it, but in addition to Fred, Russ liked her, too. In fact, he was starting to worry that he liked her far too much, something that hurt because she was right—it would never work between them. He was at a turning point in his career. From the day he turned sixteen and got his first job, he'd nearly killed himself to get to the point he was at now—and his future hinged on what he did in the next three weeks. The last thing he needed was a relationship.

She pressed one hand to Fred's back to support him, pushed herself to a sitting position, then stood. “Did you get what you needed?”