Read Along Came a Demon for Free Online Page B

Really?” Jack’s hands went to his hips. “Let me have it.”
    Mel’s head jutted forward. “If only I could. I’d let you have it … right where it hurts.”
    Jack beckoned with crooked fingers. “Bring it on, baby.”
    As they argued, I crept past them and out the backdoor.
    A ten-foot-high redbrick wall surrounds my orchard on three sides, which makes the place kind of stick out, because no other properties in the area have high walls. A few old maple and sycamore rear up behind the wall and beyond them the apartment complex raises its head.
    It was not here when I moved in. Just a matted, humpy old field and a few trees. The way land was at a premium in the area, I should have known someone would build eventually.
    A tall wrought-iron gate bisects my wall. I used to imagine previous owners of my house taking their dogs through there for their morning walk among the trees, then across the field. I went that route myself to reach a small, family owned corner-store called Marvin’s Mart until it fell victim to the apartment complex.
    I started off in the dusk. The woods were not very deep and the lamps from the street ahead penetrated through the trees. The air was crisp and cold, permeated by wood smoke, and I would have seen a lot more stars if not for the glow from Clarion behind me. Leaves crunched under my feet; one more good wind and those remaining on the trees would come down. The leaves turned early this year and looked crispier, and I wondered if the past summer’s drought had something to do with that.
    In a couple of minutes, I was standing on the curb, looking across the street at the three-story apartment complex.
    To give them their due, whoever designed the complex tried to make it blend in with the area and the old east bench homes. Built of honey-colored brick with steeply pitched slate roofs, oak doors and window frames, it looks older than it actually is. The main block faces east, with a wing extending at each end, surrounding a beautiful expanse of lawn trisected by cobblestone paths. The sidewalks surrounding the entire complex are likewise cobblestone. At each corner, where the wings join the main block, an arched passage goes through to the rear of the complex.
    Borders of shrubs and annuals had been tidied up and mulched for the winter, but I remembered how pretty they looked in spring, summer and early fall. I waited for two cars to drive past, then crossed the street.
    As is often the case, the manager’s apartment is on the ground floor just off the main entrance. The manager, a small, balding man, was not at all interested in me or why I wanted to get inside Lindy’s apartment. Yes, Lieutenant Warren called him and here was the key. He kept looking back over his shoulder at his TV as he spoke to me, and the door shut in my face before I took more than one step back.
    I went outside and through one of the passages to the back. I looked over a nice little play area for the kids and a fenced-in swimming pool, now covered, the gates locked. I wanted to get to Lindy’s apartment from the rear, to see if I could spot anything odd on the backstairs going up.
    The top floor apartments boast wrought iron balconies. A lot of them had plastic chairs, a potted plant or two. Lindy’s balcony was bare.
    I used the key, stepped inside, and with my left hand searched the wall for a light switch. Strip lighting on the ceiling and recessed globes above the cabinets illuminated the kitchen in stark detail. Small, but very nice, with plenty of oak cabinets going right up to the ceiling, a built-in gas stove near the sink, dishwasher, trash compacter, and a free-standing refrigerator against the outside wall. The kitchen was very neat, with only a microwave, a few canisters, a can opener, a coffee maker, and a jug containing utensils precisely arrayed on the single counter. The dishes were still in the dishwasher - clean. A small oval antique dining table with two chairs just managed to fit in near the