“No. There may have been a murder here last night …” As Regan said the last five words, the bedroom door opened. There was a gasp, the door slammed, and Regan heard feet running down the hall.

“Please—the Settlers’ Club—look it up,” Regan pleaded. She dropped the phone and ran out into the hall. She heard the back door shut and raced toward the kitchen. By now her heart was in her mouth. If I can only get a glimpse of them, she thought as she ran through the darkness. In the kitchen, she flicked on the light, then yanked open the door. There was no sign of anyone, but she could hear footsteps descending the back stairway.

Running back into the kitchen and down the hallway, Regan picked up the house phone. A sleepy-sounding voice answered.

“Hello.”

“This is Regan Reilly. I’m staying in Nat Pemrod’s apartment. It was just broken into, but the intruders got scared off. They’re running down the steps by the service elevator.”

“Oh my goodness.”

“Well, do something!” Regan cried.

“They must have gone out the back door.”

“The back door?” Regan said in disgust.

“It’s only used for emergencies.”

Regan shook her head. “I guess this qualifies. The police should be here in a few minutes.”

“I’ll send them up, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Regan hung up the phone and went around turning on lights. The living room had been ransacked. I must have been sleeping the sleep of the dead, she thought.

Books and pictures were all over the floor, and Nat’s desk was torn apart. I guess my room was next. She shuddered. What if I hadn’t woken up until it was too late? If I’d have gotten away with only a Mace attack like Janey, I would have been lucky.

I’d better let Thomas know. She went back to the house phone and called downstairs.

“Could you please call Thomas for me?” Regan asked.

“I already did. I was just about to ring you. The police are on their way up.”

Thomas was getting off the elevator as Regan opened the door. He had on a crisp linen robe and leather slippers that certainly suggested gracious living. The police were right behind him, their radios squawking.

“Regan!” Thomas cried as he entered Nat’s apartment, and for the second time in less than six hours, hugged someone involved in a crime scene.

“It could have been a lot worse,” Regan assured him. “But I don’t think they expected to find me in the guest room.”

The two cops introduced themselves to Regan. “We were here last night,” Officer Angelo said. He turned to Thomas. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you,” Thomas said as he and Regan followed them into the living room. “I appreciate your asking.”

“They ran out the back door.” Regan explained to the officers what had happened.

“No sign of forced entry?” Officer Angelo asked.