Silent Fall

down Dylan’s street Catherine studied the parked cars. They were almost at the end of the block when she spotted it. "There it is."
    "Finally, a little luck," Dylan said with satisfaction. He pulled into a spot in front of the Jetta.
    "Wait," she said as Dylan moved to get out of the car. "There’s no one around, is there? No one watching from any of the other cars?" She checked the side-view mirror as Dylan turned in his seat to look behind them. She wasn’t just worried about Erica’s killer; she was also concerned that the police might be keeping an eye on Dylan’s apartment in the hope that he would turn up there.
    "I don’t see anyone," he said. "But when I get out switch places with me and keep the car running, in case we have to make a quick getaway."
    "I’m starting to feel like Bonnie and Clyde."
    "Let’s hope we don’t end up like them," Dylan said as he shut the door.
    She crawled over the gearshift and behind the wheel, then watched Dylan’s progress through the rearview mirror. He walked right up to the car, paused, looked around, and then checked the doors. A shiver ran through her as she watched him touch the door handle.
    She closed her eyes as an image took shape in her mind.
    The air was cold. It cut through her dress as she got out of the car. Last night’s terror was still fresh in her mind, and she couldn’t help but take a look over her shoulder. No one was there. She was safe for the moment. As she reached for her purse her cell phone fell out of the side pocket and slid between the seats. Swearing, she tried to pull it out, but it was wedged in. She’d retrieve it later. She needed to get inside.
    Slamming the car door, she walked quickly across the sidewalk to Dylan’s apartment building. She was glad now that she’d swiped his keys when she had the chance, although her original intention had been only to make it harder for him to leave Tahoe. She slid the outside door key in with a shaky hand and was relieved when the lock turned. She bounded up the stairs to his apartment, not taking another deep breath until she was inside. Pressing her palms against the back of the door, she stood for a moment to get her bearings.
    Now that she was here she wasn’t sure what to do. Crossing the room, she picked up the phone and dialed Dylan’s cell phone. She had to tell him what was happening. He would be pissed that she’d set him up, but ultimately he’d have to help her. For his sake as well as hers, she had to stay alive.
    The phone rang a couple of times. Finally he answered. She started to tell him she was sorry, that she didn’t have a choice. Then she heard the front doorknob turn.
    Her heart stood still. Someone was trying to break in. It wasn’t Dylan. He was on the phone. She hung up, his voice still ringing in her ear. She moved around the room, searching for a way out, but she was on the second floor.
    Whoever was after her was going to get her.
    She ran into the bedroom, sensing that she didn’t have much time. She threw open one of the windows, relieved to see the branches of a tree not far away. If she missed the tree, she could severely hurt herself. But what choice did she have?
    She crawled out of the window and jumped toward the tree, her hands slipping on the branch, but she managed to hang on. Then she scrambled down the trunk, dropping to the ground just as she heard a male swear from the floor above her.
    She ran through the next yard, pausing when she hit the street. She saw a man come out of Dylan’s building. He was between her and her car. Unable to go back, she fled down the block, trying to stay close to the buildings and out of sight. She didn’t stop running until she reached the park by the Palace of Fine Arts. She could lose herself in the crowds, the building, the shadows.
    "Please, God, don’t let him find me," she prayed. But she wondered deep in her heart if anyone was listening. She’d been a fool to believe she was only supposed to pretend to be dead. Her greed had gotten her into this mess, and now she was going to pay.
    "Catherine."
    Catherine opened her eyes as Dylan’s sharp voice penetrated her brain. He’d opened the door on the passenger side, and he was holding a woman’s purse.
    "I found her bag in the car," he said. "But there’s nothing in it except a wallet, a few pens, and some makeup."
    She swallowed, trying to bring herself back to