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forget it.’
    ‘Let’s park it up the street, then.’
    ‘In front of somebody else’s house?’
    ‘Got any obnoxious neighbors?’
    She surprised herself by laughing. ‘That’s wicked.’ The laughter seemed to nudge her fear aside. When she finished, she found herself almost calm. ‘Look, let’s go inside. We’ll leave the car here. If this kid’s so goddamn determined to find my house, he’ll manage it one way or another, anyhow. Sooner or later. I’m not, for Godsake, going to spend the rest of my life hiding from him.’
    Jack squeezed her shoulder. ‘Let’s go in, then.’
    They climbed from the car. As they walked over the cobblestones toward the front door, Dani heard a car engine. Her knees went weak. Looking around, she saw a car gliding slowly up the street. It passed.
    A pale Mercedes.
    With a sigh, she hurried into the dark recess of the front stoop. Jack stood beside her as she unlocked the door. They stepped into the lighted foyer. She shut the door and secured its guard chain.
    Jack’s hands curled over her shoulders. He turned her around, pulled her gently against him. She held him tightly. The strength of his body felt safe and comfortable.
    ‘Thank God you were with me tonight,’ she said. She tilted her head back, and they kissed. The pressure of his mouth soothed her. The tension eased out. She felt peaceful enough to fall asleep in his arms.
    Then his mouth went away. ‘I think it’s time to call the police.’
    ‘Oh no.’
    ‘If the guy’s still in the neighborhood, they might pick him up.’
    ‘Yeah. All right.’ Reluctantly, she let go of Jack. He kept hold of her hand, and they walked away from the door. The living room was lighted by a single lamp. The black expanse of its picture windows, at the rear, made her nervous. Leaving Jack, she hurried across the carpet to the draw cords. She kept her eyes down, unwilling to look at the window, afraid of what she might see in the darkness beyond. As she closed the curtains, she heard Jack dialing.
    ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We have a prowler . . . 822 Asher Lane . . . Laurel Canyon Boulevard . . . Okay, thanks.’ He hung up.
    ‘A prowler?’ Dani asked.
    ‘Close enough.’
    ‘How about a drink?’ she asked, and turned on a lamp by the couch.
    ‘Sounds good.’
    She turned on another lamp while Jack walked down the long side of the L-shaped bar. He entered the kitchen and turned on a light. ‘Ten twenty-five,’ he said.
    The doorbell rang at five to eleven, making Dani’s hand jump. She set down her vodka and tonic.
    ‘That was quick,’ Jack said. ‘Twenty minutes. Good thing we didn’t need them.’
    She followed Jack to the foyer. He slipped off the guard chain and opened the door. Two uniformed patrolmen were waiting on the front stoop. ‘You reported a prowler?’ asked the taller man. The other, an oriental, tapped his night-stick against the side of his leg and seemed to be staring at Dani’s chin.
    That’s right,’ Jack said. ‘He just took off, though. Two or three minutes ago. In a black hearse.’
    ‘Did you get the license number?’
    ‘Afraid not.’
    ‘Can you describe the man?’ he asked, raising a clipboard.
    ‘A Caucasian, maybe eighteen or twenty, very thin, bald. He wore a black turtleneck and jeans.’
    Without a word, the other patrolman strode away.
    ‘Did he attempt an entry of the premises?’
    Jack shook his head. ‘He was around back, looking at the windows. Scared the hell out of us. I yelled at him, but he wouldn’t leave. He stayed back there, walking around the pool and watching us. I wasn’t about to go out. You know? I figured he might be dangerous. So I phoned you people. He finally ran off, and we saw him get into the hearse.’
    The patrolman nodded and glanced up from his clipboard. ‘May I have your names?’
    ‘I’m Jack Somers. This is Danielle Larson.’
    ‘Whose residence is this?’
    ‘Mine,’ Dani said.
    ‘All right.’ He jabbed the pen into his shirt pocket.