She rose and walked to the window. “I think this is hell!” She threw the window open and stuck her head out for air. “I have to tell you, Anatole never made me feel like this. Anatole was… holy cow, look at this.”

Dave joined her at the window. Outside, a bright beam from a flashlight moved through a neighboring yard, sweeping its length and breadth. Then the light was extinguished, a dark figure scaled what was left of the privacy fence, and the light jiggled across the next yard. Dave pulled Kate away from the window and drew the curtains. They looked at each other with raised eyebrows, exchanging sobering thoughts. “Elsie should have shot higher,” Dave said finally.

“We should call the police.”

“That guy’ll be long gone by the time the police get here.” He gave her a fast kiss and wheeled away. “Stay here! I’ll be right back.”

“Dave!” He was gone, down the stairs, out the front door. “Damn.” Kate flew down the stairs after him. Stay here! Was he kidding?

She was halfway down the street before she realized she wasn’t wearing shoes. She looked at her sock feet, whispered an oath, and stopped dead. She saw Dave round the corner. He was going to meet the guy with the flashlight head-on when he got to the last yard on the block. And he might need help. She wasn’t sure what sort of help she could provide, but she took off at a run, mindless of the cold pavement under her feet.

She turned the corner and saw Dave waiting in the shadow of Frank Schneider’s ivy-covered seven-foot fence. The Schneider house was dark and obviously empty. There was the subdued sound of someone quietly scaling the fence from the other side of the yard and lithely dropping to the ground. Through the slats in the wooden fence, Kate saw the flashlight switched on again.

She heard footsteps pattering down the narrow gravel alley separating the abutting backs of yards and someone rattling the locked back door to Frank Schneider’s fence. When the door wouldn’t open, a four-letter word carried across the fence to her. It was Elsie.

Dave and Kate reached Elsie just in time to see the barrel of the .45 glint malevolently as she blasted the lock off the door and kicked it in John Wayne style. A man burst through, knocking Elsie into Kate and Dave. Another shot rang out, a car pulled up to the curb, the man with the flashlight jumped into the car and sped away.

Dave held on to the fence for support and stared down at his foot. The tip of his right shoe had been blown off. “I’ve been shot!”