Falling Awake

stopped stacking papers, got to his feet and rotated his right arm in an absent, circular motion, loosening his shoulder. She saw the faint tightening at the corners of his eyes.
    “Would you like some anti-inflammatories?” she asked, starting to rise from the sofa.
    “I’m fine,” he said tersely. “Did Payne have anything useful?”
    “No, unfortunately. He’s recovering from surgery so he hasn’t been in his office since shortly after I left. The only gossip he had was the news that Randolph is sleeping with a member of the professional staff, Amelia Netley. Not very helpful, I’m afraid.”
    “Who’s next on your list?”
    She glanced down at the pad of paper on the table next to the phone. “Sandra Johnson. She was Martin Belvedere’s secretary. Randolph inherited her.”
    She was reaching for the phone again when a muffled clatter followed by a soft thud sounded from the vicinity of the small laundry room off the kitchen.
    Ellis spun around so quickly he was almost a blur. He dove for the briefcase and came up with a pistol in his hand.
    Before Isabel could recover from her shock, he had hit the light switch on the wall, dousing all the living room lamps.
    The space was plunged into darkness.
    “Ellis—”
    “Get down on the floor,” he ordered, his voice dangerously soft.

    “But—”
    “Do it.”
    She sensed him moving toward the kitchen. It was all happening so fast she could scarcely understand it. Then she had a sudden, horrifying thought.
    “Don’t shoot, it’s just Sphinx,” she said quickly. “He’s using the dog door in the laundry room. Please, don’t hurt him.”
    There was a short silence. And then the light came on in the small space, spilling into the kitchen.
    She saw Ellis silhouetted in the fluorescent glow, the gun alongside his leg, pointed toward the floor. He stood looking into the laundry room, his features stark and grim.
    “You just had one hell of a close call, Sphinx,” he said, his voice still frighteningly low and even.
    Unconcerned with his brush with a messy death, Sphinx greeted Ellis with a few flicks of his tail and then padded to his food dish.
    Isabel started to breathe again.
    “Sorry,” she said. “I forgot to mention the little dog door. Sphinx found it right after we moved in. He disappeared while I was unpacking. I thought he ran off. I was worried he wouldn’t be able to find his way back but he came home a short time later, just as calm as you please.”
    For a couple of heartbeats, Ellis did not move. She was not sure he had even heard her. But just as she parted her lips to repeat her explanation of events, he turned, very slowly, as though reluctant to look at her.

    “You’re supposed to be on the floor,” he said.
    The ice in his words froze her to the spot.
    “Ellis? What’s wrong? I’m sorry you were startled.” She was starting to get worried now. “Are you okay?”
    His jaw was rigid and his eyes narrowed in a way that reminded her uncomfortably of Sphinx in a bad mood. She got the impression he was angry but whether he was mad at her or himself was not clear.
    “Sorry,” he said roughly. He stalked back into the living room and put the pistol inside the briefcase. Then he straightened and looked at her. “I’ve been a little jumpy for the past three months.”
    She cleared her throat. “Yes, I can see that.”
    “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
    “You didn’t scare me. I was concerned, that’s all.” She glanced at the briefcase. “Although I, uh, didn’t realize that you were armed.”
    He didn’t say anything, just stood there looking at her with an enigmatic expression.
    She reminded herself that he had just responded to a perceived threat with a gun in his hand. There was probably a lot of adrenaline and testosterone still pumping through him. She needed to give him time to get himself under control.
    “It’s okay, Ellis.” She made her voice as soothing as possible. “Why don’t I fix you a nice cup of tea?”
    He took a step toward her and stopped. “Next time I tell you to get down on the floor and stay there, you do it. Understood?”

    She sighed. “You’re really mad, aren’t you?”
    “I’m mad, all right. Last night someone you knew well got himself killed, remember?”
    “I’m hardly likely to forget it.”
    “We aren’t playing games here.”
    “I’m perfectly well aware of that.” She felt her own temper start to flare. “You don’t need to lecture me.”
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