Chapter 18The only breaks I took from working on the edits for my book were to eat hasty meals, sleep, and spend time with Alan when he came by. He never stayed for long. After all, he also had a job which needed his attention.
Thursday afternoon I was so close to finishing I could almost taste it. I was poring over my editor’s suggestion for a minor change when I felt someone grip my shoulders. I bit back a scream as I pulled free, fisting my hands as I spun around to see who it was.
“You didn’t lock the back door,” Alan told me, obviously angry that I hadn’t but worried, too. “In fact you didn’t even close it all the way!”
Taking a deep breath, I said, “I guess I forgot. I ate lunch on the back stoop to get some fresh air and let Laird play in the leaves.”
“There are locks on the doo
