9
He looked just like he had when he had gotten out of his cab. Dressed in an all-black suit, black shiny hair, unsettlingly white skin.
“Who is that?” Elizabeth breathed in my ear so softly, I could barely hear the words.
“The phone guy,” I whispered back, turning to her. We were nose to nose in the closet. I had her pinned to the wall, her heartbeat pounding against my chest. The man’s eyes flicked our way, and both our hearts stopped for an instant.
He glanced down at his wrist before walking farther into the living room and out of sight.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” I said.
“He’s next to the elevator,” Elizabeth pointed out with her trademark, if badly shaken, reasonableness.
“Another way.” I took her hand in mine, pulling her out of the closet and into my dad’s room as the m
