InSight

from terrified to confident, it became her Saturday morning ritual. Jackie Davis, a state champion cross country runner during her high school career, picked her up and ran a few miles around the oval with her. The exercise kept her fit and burned off excess frustration. She needed it.
    But not this morning.
    After Abby described the “random break-in” and a late night at the vet’s, Jackie agreed to postpone the run until two. The guide said that suited her, especially after a long Friday night. Abby told Jackie she’d call if she needed a ride.
    She never slept this late because Daisy woke her before the alarm went off.
    Daisy. The thought of her dear companion lying in a strange place, stitched and groggy, made her stomach ache. Guilt won out and she crawled out of bed. A hot shower washed off last night’s grime and injected renewed vitality into her weary body. She brushed her teeth and threw on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt.
    Lucy had arranged everything in her closet, but some things were still out of order from the first break-in. She kept her wardrobe simple, colors minimal, so everything coordinated. Too complicated and a mistake might make her look like a circus act. Her only concession to the exotic was her T-shirts. Hard to mess up jeans and a T-shirt. She chose a pair of jeans by the feel of the denim. A quick finger over the Braille label told her they were black.
    She scuffed to the kitchen to make coffee. A glass of orange juice accompanied a calcium tablet and multivitamin. When the coffee stopped gurgling, she poured a cup and emailed Luke. He answered immediately, saying he’d be right over. Then the robotic voice asked: Got coffee?
    Made plenty, she typed back. She left a couple of emails to check later, took a second cup of coffee. She wanted to sit outside, but even though she thought her intruder hid his perversions under cover of night, she’d wait until Luke came and checked it out. She curled up on the sofa and waited. She almost dozed until the doorbell chimed.
    “Who is it?” she asked. No response. Of course not . Leaving the security chain on, she opened the door, staying behind it.
    “Hi, it’s me,” Luke said.
    She let him in.
    “You just get out of the shower?”
    “I guess wet hair is a dead giveaway, huh?” They headed for the kitchen. “Coffee pot, cup, and sugar are on the counter. Cream’s in the fridge.” She heard Luke pour the coffee and liked the comfortable way he made himself at home.
    “ Mmm , coffee’s good and strong, and, boy, do I need it. Can’t get it in me fast enough.”
    “Now I’m glad I made a full pot.”
    “Next time you hear a knock on the door, knock back. I’ll feel it and knock twice in response.”
    “How do you know there’ll be a next time?”
    He came closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Only if you want.”
    She felt the heat rise on her face. “I need more coffee. How about you?”
    “Yeah, I guzzled the first cup. I can get it.”
    “So can I.” She walked to the counter, refilled both cups, placing her finger inside the rim to warn her when to stop. She held out the cup. “Black.”
    “How did you know I took it that way?”
    “No stirring, no opening of the fridge, no-brainer.”
    “Right.” He took the coffee from her hand. “Have you heard from the vet?”
    “No, I have his card here. Do you mind?” She handed it to him. “I didn’t have my recorder.”
    Luke punched in the number and handed her the phone. Mike told her that Daisy was resting, still a little drugged but doing fine. Abby could pick her up at Dr. Daniel’s on Tuesday. Both vets went out of their way for her. They sometimes stayed late to accommodate her and even ferried Daisy if Abby couldn’t get a ride.
    Luke replaced the phone when she finished. “I dropped the stick used on Daisy at the lab on the way over. Like I thought, no prints. Whoever’s doing this is a pro.”
    The word “pro” put Abby in mind of a contract killer. Why would a “pro” be after her? “A pro?” she said, her voice higher pitched than she intended. “You mean a hit man?”
    “Bad choice of words,” Luke said. “Abby, this guy’s had his chances. Killing you is not in his game plan, so don’t worry.”
    “That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one being harassed by this…this pro .”
    “We’ll get him. I’m going outside to check the other side of the fence. Maybe our trespasser carved his name in the door. Be right