Week 205 – It’s almost time

Something went bump in the quiet house, jolting Becca from sleep.

What was that?

Was she dreaming?

She sat up, clutching the covers close to her chin and sat perfectly still, ears straining to hear through the quiet night.

Just as she was about to give up and assume she had dreamed the sound she heard it again. Thumps like someone was trying to quietly make their way up the stairs.

Someone had broken in.

Panicked she clambered from the bed, her wild gaze searching the bedroom for anything she could use as a weapon. The lamp on the nightstand appeared to be the best she could do so she quickly unplugged it and scrambled over to stand by the door, ready to hit the intruder over the head the second they came through the door.

“Its almost time,” she whispered under her breath.

The seconds seemed to tick by with excruciating slowness, but then she heard it. Someone stopped outside the door, the handle jiggled, before the door was slowly eased open.

Becca swung the lamp but the intruder grabbed her wrist and slammed her up against the wall. The lamp was ripped from her hand and tossed to land uselessly on the bed and she was spun around a pair of handcuffs secured around her wrists.

“I got one,” he yelled out and panic had her heart trying to race right out of her chest. There were two of them?

The light switched on as another person entered the room and she was spun around to find a huge man with an angry scowl staring at her.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Who are you?” she shot back.

“Detective Walt Berman,” he replied, flashing a badge her way.

Her mouth hung open.

A cop?

What was he doing here?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, echoing her thoughts.

“I was trying to sleep,” she snapped, irritated now that she knew she wasn’t in danger of being raped and murdered. “Why are you here?”

“Who are you?” he asked, ignoring her question.

“I’m Becca Sharp, I arrived here at my brother’s house earlier this evening, I’m here on vacation.” When he arched a brow she nodded her head behind him. “My suitcase is right over there, my ticket on the dresser, all I did when I got here was take a shower and go to bed.”

The other man checked out her story and nodded to the man standing in front of her. “Story checks out, her suitcase is here, and there’s a ticket with her name on it, along with her purse, driver’s license confirms her name and that she’s from out of state.”

Now it was her turn to arch a brow at the man standing over her. She lifted her shoulders, “Care to take these off now?” she asked, her voice haughty. “And tell me why you’re breaking into my brother’s house in the middle of the night.”

Detective Walt Berman turned her around and undid the cuffs, then while she rubbed at her wrists he met her gaze squarely. “Your brother is wanted for murder.”

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