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INTRUDER
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"You gonna wear them panties while I have my fun or I'm gonna slice you up. I'm gonna slit your belly open and rip out your guts. Then you know what I'm gonna do?" He made smacking sounds with his lips. "I'm gonna drink your blood."
This was no junkie, she realized--this was a real sicko. Horrified, she retreated back toward the tub, and as she did her hand brushed against a plastic bottle. It fell to the floor and the smell of pine cleaner filled the bathroom. She recalled a warning on the bottle to keep the cleaner away from the eyes. Maybe she could throw the liquid in his face and blind him.
She picked up the bottle. Damn, almost empty.
"What the hell you doin' in there? You don't want to upset me when..." There was a rustle of movement. "Hey, what's that on the nightstand, a recorder? You been tapin' our little conversation on that old thing? Well, let's hear what you recorded so far." He snickered.
The PLAY button clicked, and within seconds she could hear the distinctive bark of Bandit, followed by the intruder's shrill, "What the hell?"
There was a thud, as if he had fallen down, followed by a scuffling sound. She heard him cursing as he ran down the stairs. Seconds later, the house was quiet.
Karen was perplexed. What on earth had happened? Prior to playing the tape, he had been cool and casual, even arrogant. He had been enjoying himself, taking sadistic pleasure in her terrifying predicament. Why had he suddenly become agitated? Surely, he realized that the barking was coming from the tape; after all, he was the one who turned on the recorder.
Maybe he was just trying to trick her into leaving the bathroom. But that made no sense. He could kick in the door as easily as he'd kicked in the bedroom door.
Or maybe he had an extreme phobia of dogs--she'd once had a friend who was deathly afraid of them. Maybe that phobia, added to his twisted mind, had sent him over the edge after hearing the tape.
She waited for what seemed like an eternity before leaving the bathroom. As she stepped out, it dawned on her that the intruder might be playing a cat-and-mouse game with her. A sadistic sicko would be the type to get his kicks from such a game. He may have been faking the whole thing, and even now he might be hiding in the closet.
She ran back into the bathroom and locked the door, waiting, listening for any sound that might betray his presence. The minutes ticked by, and she realized that she was no safer here than anywhere else in the house. If he burst through the bathroom door, she would have no chance for escape.
Once more, she eased out of the bathroom. She crept down the stairs, through the hallway, and into the darkness of the kitchen. She opened the knife drawer. She reached in, and her fingers found a carving knife. As she withdrew it, she was startled by a loud noise behind her.
She dropped the knife. Her heart beating wildly, she spun around. This time, it was the icemaker. Breathing a sigh of relief, she retrieved the knife.
Holding the carving knife at the ready, she cautiously opened the kitchen door and stepped down into the carport. She missed a step and stumbled and fell, turning her ankle. She hobbled to the car, opened the door and hurriedly slid into the driver's seat.
As she slammed the door and locked it, she was filled with instant regret. When she got in, the car door had been unlocked--she had left it unlocked again!
She sat there terrified, frozen with fear. If the intruder were playing a cat-and-mouse game, this would be a perfect setup for him. He would simply hide in the back seat, guessing that she would come to the car to make a run for it. She glanced in the rear-view mirror, the prickles rising on the nape of her neck as she waited for the feel of the sharp blade on her throat.
She slowly turned around. Her heart leaped to her throat at the sight of a large form lying on the back seat. She tore her nail grabbing the door handle, and then nearly collapsed with relief when she realized that the large form was actually a bundle of old clothes that she was planning to drop off at a charity collection point.
Clutching the cell phone, she dialed 911.
*****
"We caught your intruder, Mrs. Parker," said Corporal Parilli. "As a matter of fact, he flagged us down when we were approaching your house. Said he wanted protection from a dog. He claimed it kept attacking him and wouldn't leave him alone. But there were no bite marks on him, and there were no dogs in sight. The guy sounds like he ain't playing with a full deck."
"A dog was chasing him?" asked Karen.
"That's what he claimed. Anyway, your intruder is the escapee we've been looking for. He was doing time for rape and murder."
Karen was almost speechless. "My God. Then he was the escapee in the news? If...if he hadn't stopped to play the tape..."
Corporal Parilli looked puzzled. "Tape?"
Karen explained to the deputy about Bandit, about taping his bark, and about the intruder playing the tape. He made notes as she talked.
After she was finished, he pocketed the notebook. "I just want to get one thing straight, Mrs. Parker." he said. "You say that your dog was white with a black mask-like marking around the eyes?"
Now it was Karen's turn to be puzzled. "Yes, that's right. Is that important?"
"Not really. Just a funny coincidence, that's all. It matches the description the perp gave of the attacking dog."
Parilli advised her that he would have a deputy checking on the house frequently.
*****
After the deputies left, Karen went upstairs. She was still edgy from her ordeal. It was 2:00 AM now, and no way would she get any sleep for the rest of the night. She made a mental note to call the security alarm people first thing tomorrow. She would also ask Aunt Cathy to stay with her until Jeff came back.
She eyed the recorder on the nightstand. Her ruse to play Bandit's tape had worked, she thought, but in a very unexpected way. What the deputies told her jibed with her conclusion that the intruder had a severe phobia of dogs. There had been no bite marks, and no trace of a dog, yet the intruder had been fearful enough to surrender to the deputies. The barking had been enough to trigger his phobia and send the unstable man fleeing from an imaginary dog.
That had been a stroke of good luck for her, but she couldn't get over the eerie coincidence of the similarity between Bandit and the intruder's imaginary dog.
She extracted the tape from the recorder and returned it to the nightstand drawer. But as she started to put the tape recorder away, she gasped. The power cord was hanging loose. In her haste, she had forgotten to plug it in.
But that couldn't be, for hadn't she heard Bandit's barking with her own ears? Or perhaps her mind had been playing tricks.
Karen Parker spoke softly to the empty room. "Bandit, was it really you?" For a brief moment she shivered and goose bumps formed on her skin, for she could have sworn that she felt the nudging of a cold nose and then a warm, moist tongue caressing her hand. And then an unbidden thought--in the form of a suggestion--came to her mind.
"Yes, I will," she whispered. "I'll get another dog."
***THE END***
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