Jaine tried to think what she would do if someone she recognized knocked on her door at night, maybe claiming to have had car trouble. Until today, she probably would have opened her door without hesitation, wanting only to be helpful. The killer, even if he turned out to be some stranger, had forever robbed her of that trust, that inner sense of security. She had liked to think she was smart and aware, that she didn't take chances, but how often had she opened her door at a knock without asking who was on the other side? She shuddered now to think of it. Her front door didn't even have a peephole in it. She could see who was at the door only if she climbed on her sofa and pulled back the curtain, then leaned far to the right. And the upper half of her kitchen door was nothing but nine small panes of glass, easily smashed; then all any intruder would have to do was reach in and unlock it. She had no alarm system, no means of protecting herself – nothing! The best she could hope to do if anyone broke into her house while she was there was escape out the window, assuming she could get it open.
She had a lot of work to do, she thought, before she would feel safe in her house again.
She worked half an hour later than usual, doing a little catch-up on the pile of paperwork that had accumulated during her absence. As she was crossing the parking lot, she noticed there were only a handful of cars remaining and, for the first time, realized how vulnerable she was leaving work late like this, alone. All three of them, she and Luna and T.J. should time their arrivals and departures with the crowd, to take advantage of the safety in numbers. She hadn't even told them she intended to work late.
There was so much she had to think about now, so much inherent danger in things she had never before had to consider.
"Jaine!"
As she crossed the parking lot, the sound of her name broke into her consciousness, leaving her aware that someone had called her at least twice, maybe more. She turned around, mildly surprised to see Leah Street hurrying after her.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, though she wondered what Leah wanted. "I was thinking and didn't hear you at first. Is something wrong?"
Leah stopped, her graceful hands fluttering, an uncomfortable expression on her face. "I just – I wanted to say I'm sorry about Marci. When is the funeral?"
"I don't know yet." She didn't feel up to explaining again about the autopsy. "Marci's sister is making the arrangements."
Leah nodded jerkily. "Let me know, please. I'd like to attend."
"Yes, of course."
Leah seemed to want to say something else or maybe didn't know what else to say; either condition was awkward. Finally she bobbed her head and turned to hurry to her own car. Her full skirt flew around her legs. Today's dress was particularly hopeless, a lavender print that did nothing for her coloring and with a small ruffle around the neckline. It looked like a yard-sale reject, though Leah pulled down a good salary – Jaine knew exactly how much – and probably shopped at nice department stores. She simply had no fashion sense.
"On the other hand," Jaine muttered to herself as she unlocked the Viper, "I have no people sense." Her judgment must be seriously off, because the two people from whom she would never have expected sympathy and sensitivity – Mr. de Wynter and Leah Street – were the two who had gone out of their way to tell her they were sorry about Marci.
Mindful of Sam's instructions, she drove to an electronics store and bought a Caller ID unit, signed up for cellular service, went through all the paperwork for that, then had to choose a phone. The selection engrossed her; did she want one of the little flip-tops or one that didn't flip? She decided on the non-flipper, figuring that if she were running for her life from a crazed murderer, she didn't want to have to deal with flipping up before dialing. Next she had to decide on a color. She immediately dismissed black as too basic. Neon yellow? It would be difficult to misplace. The blue one was cute; she didn't see many blue ones. On the other hand, there was nothing like red.
Once she selected the red phone, she had to wait for it to be programmed. By the time she left the electronics store, the late summer sun was almost down, clouds were sweeping in from the southwest, and she was starving. Because a cool wind was blowing in off those clouds, promising rain, and she still had two more stops to make before she went home, she got a fast-food burger and a soft drink and gulped them down as she drove. The burger wasn't very good, but it was food, and that was all her stomach required.
Her next stop was a firm that installed security systems, where she answered questions, selected the system she wanted, and wrote a large check. The system would be installed a week from the upcoming Saturday. "But that's ten days!" Jaine said, frowning. The beefy man consulted an appointment book. "Sorry, but that's the earliest we can get to you." Deftly she reached over the desk and plucked her check from where it lay in front of him. "I'll call around and see if someone else can get to me sooner than that. Sorry I wasted your time."
"Hold on, hold on," he said hastily. "Is this some kind of emergency? If someone is having trouble, we move them to the top of the list. You shoulda said so."
"It's an emergency," she said firmly.
"Okay, let me see what I can do." He studied the appointment book again, scratched his head, tapped his pencil on the book, and said, "I can work you in this Saturday, since it's an emergency."
Careful not to let any triumph show in her expression, she returned the check to him. "Thank you," she said, and meant it.
Her next stop was a building materials store. It was a huge place, with everything one would need to build a house, except the money. She bought a peephole for the front door – the instructions said "Easy to install" – and a new kitchen door that wasn't half glass and two new deadbolts. After making arrangements for the door to be delivered on Saturday, and paying extra for the privilege, she heaved a sigh of relief and started home.