A Marked Man. Stella Cameron

but did mention Wazoo’s pistol.

      He could leave the square without being seen from the café. That was the easy part. Finding and entering the alley from the blind side wasn’t so easy. When he did reach a spot where he could see the backs of Hungry Eyes, the Gables’ house and Joe’s offices on the other side of the alley, a tall brick wall confronted him and he figured out that it enclosed a stonemasons’ yard between him and the back entrance he needed to reach.

      At least there shouldn’t be anyone on the masons’ premises. He hoped.

      After backing off to get a run at the wall, Max sprinted and leaped to grip the coping on top. He thought he might fall back but his sneakers found purchase on the bricks and he crawled up until he could sit on the wall. In the murky area on the other side, he made out close-packed stacks of stone slabs.

      He couldn’t get it out of his head that Bobby might decide to go after Annie.

      Peering into the darkness, Max let himself down on the other side of the wall and found his way across the crowded lot to another wall on the other side.

      Once again he squared off, jumped and hunkered down on top. Bingo. Hungry Eyes stood to his left with the section that contained two apartments on the upper floor, one Annie’s, the other empty, stretching back at a rightangle.

      A small guesthouse, tucked into the corner of the rambling garden, looked empty and the Gables’ house was also in darkness.

      He heard a door fly open behind him. Over his shoulder, at one end of the workshop, he saw a rectangle of light at the end of the masons’ building with the dark shadow of someone standing there, peering around the stonemasons’ yard. He should have considered the possibility of a guard in the building.

      Max slowly flattened his body on the wall.

      His heart thundered.

      He didn’t need to be apprehended while climbing into Annie’s backyard at night.

      “There ain’t no way out,” a gruff voice called and the man in the doorway stepped into the yard. “Put your hands up and walk into the light.” The figure raised a weapon and Max rolled his eyes. Obviously the man had heard movement outside but he hadn’t seen Max, or anyone else. If an intruder were armed and desperate he would have a clear shot at the guard.

      Slithering as quietly as he could, Max dropped onto soft earth on the other side of the wall and ran swiftly, hunched over, beside a wooden fence that closed the garden off from the alley. He didn’t have to go farther than the gate for the information he needed. Through a gap in the slats he could see a dull shine on the hood of Annie’s Volvo.

      Before he could change his mind, Max went to the door below a single illuminated window in the upstairs apartments and knocked lightly. She’d never hear that. He rang the bell and winced at its grating buzz.

      This time he waited, staring at his feet, one hand braced against the door. He strained for any sound from inside but there was nothing—until a cat meowed. Max smiled to himself. Even if Annie wouldn’t come down for him, she still might feel she wanted to get the cat.

       Don’t say good night, Irene. Don’t you run up those stairs.

      If Annie did come for the cat, surely she wouldn’t ignore Max at the door. He had to be clearly visible through amber glass panes in the top half.

      Ten minutes later he gave up on Irene saving him and rang the bell once more. He’d allowed for all of this and sworn he wouldn’t leave until he saw Annie. He pressed his right forefinger into the bell and leaned on it, continued leaning on it. Please don’t let Wazoo hear him and come out of the shop.

      Max raised his chin, and saw the distorted silhouette of someone coming down the stairs. Very, very slowly down. The identity was obvious.

      Annie came to stand on the other side of the door.

      Ringing or knocking again would send her back upstairs and he’d never get in. Quietly, he waited.

      At last she moved, took off the deadbolt, unlocked the door and opened it a few inches. The chain was still on and she peered out at him through a narrow space.

      “Did Wazoo tell you to come around here?” she said.

      “No.”

      “No,” Annie repeated. “I didn’t think so, but if she had it would only be because she was tryin’ to help me.”

      “She’s a nice woman. Funny sometimes.”

      “Having premonitions doesn’t make you funny,” Annie said. She scooped up the cat and it flopped over her shoulder with its back legs hanging straight down.

      “I didn’t say—”

      “Yes, you did.”

      He hadn’t noticed a tendency for her to jump to conclusions before this. When someone insisted they were right, about something pretty stupid, and they wouldn’t listen to reason, Max got overheated. “She’s funny,” he repeated. “People laugh at some of what she says and does. I think she likes it.” And he was the one overreacting.

      “She’s a natural comedian,” Annie said, “but she does like it when she makes people laugh.”

      Max didn’t want to invite himself in.

      “You’ve had a rotten day,” he said. “Too much has happened to be good for you.”

      “I don’t think having a friend go missin’ can be easy to cope with, either,” she said. Annie raised her head. “Today’s been bad for both of us. Would you like to come in for a bit?”

      “Yes,” he said. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

      Why had the man in the café tried to smear her reputation? Why had he turned up after so long?

      Someone needed to find out what was eating him, and shut him up—permanently.

      Annie closed the door and took off the chain, then let him in. “I have tea and coffee. And I’ve got some bottles of good wine if that’s what you’d like. Take your pick.”

      Making faces at her bad-tempered cat, he walked upstairs behind her and she showed him into an L-shaped living room overlooking the square. “This is really nice,” he said. The cat peered around to get another look at him. Her green-gold eyes crossed and she showed all of her teeth in a silent hiss.

      Max wriggled his nose and looked around. The place looked new, as in brand-new.

      “Ellie and Joe renovated the whole upstairs. They had what was the kitchen turned into a dining room. The kitchen—” she pointed right “—is where the master bedroom used to be, and they pushed through to the second apartment to make a really big bedroom, a second bedroom and a little office.”

      “So they got rid of the second apartment completely? You’ve probably got the biggest digs in town.” However, all that stood in the living room was a white couch that looked untouched, and a red lacquer chest placed in front as a coffee table. A white carpet showed shoe impressions from the front door to the kitchen and bedrooms. They bypassed the rest of the living room, and the empty dining room.

      “Are you looking for a bathroom?” Annie said.

      Way to go, Savage, gape around her home like you’re taking inventory. “No, thanks. You’ve got wonderful spaces to…”

      “Work with?” she said, filling in the words he’d managed not to say. Her smile would turn on lights—and other things. He ought to know. “I haven’t gotten around to furnishing the place. After all, I’ve only been here seven months. Gimme time.”

      He nodded, returning her smile. “Take all the time you want. These things can’t be rushed.” These polite conversations made him nervous because they meant the people involved were avoiding what they really wanted to say.

      Annie crossed her arms. Except for her breasts, she