Death's Door. Meryl Sawyer

as he’d said. He wasn’t the killer. That man was long gone but his evilness remained, hanging over the small house like a noxious cloud.

      Madison’s eyes dropped to the body prone on the carpet. “Don’t leave me.”

      The man touched her arm and prodded her in the direction of the kitchen. “Go out back. You’ll be safe.”

      Madison stumbled toward the kitchen, managed to open the door and lurched to an upright position on the other side. She gulped hard and air rasped down her throat, then thundered into her lungs. She swayed for a moment, the numbers on the keypad of the small cell phone swimming in front of her. Something brushed against her leg and she gasped out loud but managed not to scream when she realized it was just the dog, standing beside her, tail swishing.

      She gazed down into his soulful eyes and something unexpected tugged at her heart. Erin must have cared deeply about the dog to bring him home even though she knew a pet could mean eviction from a bungalow she’d described as “perfect.” Had this poor animal seen the killer, heard the desperate struggle in the other room?

      The screech of tires on the street outside jolted her. Call the police! She punched the numbers and hit Send.

      “Nine-one-one. Please hold.”

      Hold? Erin was dead. Getting an ambulance here fast wasn’t important, but what if someone—

      “What is the nature of your emergency?”

      “M-my f-friend’s been killed.” Madison choked on the words. It was almost as if saying them made it true. If she didn’t utter them, Erin would still be alive.

      “Does your friend have a pulse? Have you cleared the air passages?”

      Madison mumbled her replies, trying to make the overly calm, patient woman understand. Erin had been murdered. As she talked, she spotted the envelope and leash on the counter and made a split-second decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret. She shoved the envelope into her purse, which by some miracle was still slung over her shoulder. She snapped the leash onto Aspen’s collar.

      “What is your address?” the emergency operator asked.

      Madison went blank. She could find her way to her best friend’s house easily but didn’t recall the number on Sawgrass Terrace. “I’m on a cell. I’ll go outside and check the number.” She plowed through the small kitchen and service area, Aspen in tow. Outside, the sun was blistering a path across the sky. In shimmering waves, moist heat rose from the grass in back of the house.

      Madison squinted. How could it be so bright and sunny when Erin was dead?

      “You’re at fourteen eleven Sawgrass Terrace. Correct?”

      From back here, Madison couldn’t see the house number but knew it was correct when she heard it. The man’s cell phone must have a GPS chip in it. Most cell phones couldn’t transmit the location so quickly. “Yes.”

      The operator told her help was on the way and to stay on the line. She snapped the phone shut. Why remain on the line? Nothing the operator could say would help Erin now.

      The door behind Madison slammed and she spun around. The man who’d heard her frantic screams walked toward her. She’d been so upset that she’d only had the vague impression of a tall, powerfully built man with dark hair and eyes. His hair was indeed dark brown, almost black, but his eyes were a deep blue that had only appeared brown in the gloomy house.

      She told herself again there was no reason to be afraid. The man merely looked intense, the way anyone would at a murder scene. Yes, his size implied strength and threatened her even though she wasn’t the type to be intimidated. But she could see he was trying to help. And finding a dead body had to be as shocking for him as it was for her.

      The hollow thunk-thunk of blood in her temples made it difficult to think as quickly as she usually did. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a thought managed to register. Most women would say this guy was hot. Not that she cared. Being with Aiden had taught her that a handsome man couldn’t resist the temptation thrown into his path.

      “Whoever killed your friend is long gone,” the stranger told her in a concerned voice, but she felt trapped by his unwavering stare. “Did you call—”

      “They’re on the way.” She returned his cell phone.

      “We’d better go around front where the police can see us.”

      Madison started to move but couldn’t. He stared at her for a moment and Madison wondered if he expected her to again cut loose with a shriek loud enough to be heard in New York. She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and headed toward the street, bringing the dog with her.

      “If only I’d gotten here sooner,” she muttered more to herself than to him. As sharp as a blade, a lone siren cut through the still air, coming closer and closer.

      “It wouldn’t have mattered. She hasn’t been alive for some time.”

      Madison stopped and Aspen plowed into the back of her legs. “How can you tell?”

      “I’m Paul Tanner with Miami PD.”

      “Oh,” she said simply, remembering the flies hovering around Erin’s body. A pinprick of a thought flashed through her brain the way obscure facts often intruded. A fly could smell a dead body a mile away. They’d been buzzing around Erin’s lifeless body for hours.

      A police car followed by an ambulance, lights flashing, screeched to a stop at the curb. Two uniformed policemen emerged from the squad car just as a gray sedan drove up. They waited until two men in suits got out of the second car.

      “Yo, Tanner,” called one of the men in suits to Paul Tanner.

      The man was who he claimed he was, she thought. How could she have mistaken him for a killer?

      “Her friend’s been strangled.” Paul lightly touched Madison’s arm. “The back door’s open. She came over to—”

      Madison realized everyone was staring at her, expecting an answer. “I came over to get my cell phone.”

      One detective remained with her while Paul led the other detective and the uniformed officers to the back of the house.

      “I went in and found Erin on the floor in the living room. Sh-she had this cord or sash around her neck.”

      “So she was dead when you arrived?”

      “Yes. It looked like she’d been strangled.”

      The detective jotted a few notes in the small notebook he held in his hand. His face registered no emotion. Obviously, dead bodies came as no surprise to him.

      “What is the victim’s full name?”

      “Erin Allison Wycoff.”

      “How’d you get in?”

      Madison ran through the story of the newly changed locks and how she’d found the hidden key. She was coming to her senses a little bit, her mind grasping the gruesome reality of the situation.

      The two policemen came out of the front door, followed by the other detective and the Tanner guy. From their impassive, almost frozen expressions, no one could guess the grisly scene they’d discovered in the house.

      “Medical examiner’s on the way. The tech van will be here to process the scene,” announced one of the men in uniform.

      The men gathered a few feet from Madison. She took a step back and bumped into Aspen. She leaned down and stroked his head. The men conferred for a moment, speaking so softly Madison couldn’t make out what they were saying.

      The detective with the notebook continued asking questions as the men moved closer. “When was the last time you saw the victim?”

      “Erin. Her name was Erin.”

      The men looked at one another. Hysterical female, they silently telegraphed.