computer at work. Of course, since the architectural firm of Wainwright and Co. thought he was dead, they may well have terminated his access…He’d have to see.
And he’d also have to talk Julia Sheridan out of her car.
Reenergized with a plan of action, he got out of the car and followed Julia up the front walk toward her door. She should have left lights burning for her return, but then he recalled she hadn’t expected to get back after dark.
He was about to step in front of her when he noticed a faint line of light stripping the long vertical edge of the door. He glanced to his left, through what appeared to be her kitchen window.
He pulled Julia back against his chest, moving backward.
“Hey—” she gasped before he slapped a hand over her mouth. Loosening his grip, he leaned forward until his lips brushed her ear. “Your front door is ajar. There’s a light bobbing around in there,” he whispered. “Someone with a flashlight.”
To his absolute amazement, she tore herself free and stormed toward her unlocked door, ripping it open and charging inside before he could stop her.
Raised voices reached him as he crossed the threshold in her wake.
A moment later, a gunshot thundered through the house.
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