Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

he lived there. It was complete in every way, down to the dishes in the kitchen cabinets.
    A loud buzzer went off, and an amplified voice announced, “All quiet on the set. Cell phones off.” Teddy switched off his phone. A red light over the entrance to the stage went on, signifying that they were now sealed inside the huge space.
    Then Teddy’s frontal lobe lit up, and he knew what had bothered him: the toilet seat. He had a clear memory of visiting the bathroom before they left the apartment for dinner, and of closing the seat, reminding himself that he no longer lived alone. Another man had been in their penthouse.
    He stepped into a corner and switched his cell phone on again, waiting impatiently for it to boot up. He pressed the favorites button and selected Betsy’s number, pressing it to his ear and waiting for her to pick up. Nothing happened. He looked at the screen and found a “call failed” message. He tried again, to no avail. The studio, in spite of the earlier announcement, was jamming cell calls from the soundstage, just in case.
    •   •   •
    Betsy struggled out of bed and into the shower. She shouldn’t have had that extra glass of wine after dinner, she now realized. Coffee would fix her, though. Then, as she got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, she heard the doorbell. At least, she thought it was the doorbell; it had never rung before.
    She padded to the front door in her bare feet and peered through the peephole. A man stood outside, his back to the door; he was dressed in a black suit and a black fedora. Then he turned toward the door and rang the bell again. There was a gun in his hand.
    Oh, shit
, she thought. As silently as she could, she slipped the security chain into its receptacle, then ran for the bedroom. She struggled into some clothes and looked for her handbag. Where the hell was it? She had her driver’s license and passport and car keys in the bag, and she couldn’t leave it here.
    •   •   •
    Vlad knelt and began using his lock picks.
    •   •   •
    Inside, Betsy heard the lock being tampered with. She looked around, panicked, and saw her handbag on the living room coffee table. She grabbed a pair of shoes, not bothering to put them on, ran into the living room, and snatched her handbag from the coffee table, knocking over a martini glass left there from the cocktail hour the evening before, and smashing it.
    •   •   •
    Outside, Vlad heard the glass break and put his ear to the door.
    •   •   •
    Betsy took the longest leap she could, trying to clear the broken glass, and failed. A sharp stab flashed through her foot and up her leg, but she ran anyway, ignoring the pain, past the front door and toward the kitchen and the service elevator. She pressed the button and waited, fidgeting with anxiety. The overhead light was on B. That meant the super could be holding the elevator in the basement. She thought about the stairs, but, remembering her foot, now bleeding copiously, she continued to watch the light. It began to move up.
Please
, she thought,
no stops!
As the elevator neared the penthouse, she heard the front door unlatch and open, then she heard a banging noise and what sounded like the screws of the chain lock tearing out of the doorjamb.
    •   •   •
    Vlad stepped inside and saw the broken glass on the floor next to the coffee table and, running away from it, a trail of blood leading toward the kitchen. He racked the silenced pistol and moved in that direction.
    •   •   •
    The elevator door finally opened, and Betsy pushed the G button. Seconds elapsed, and the door began to close. Through the remaining six inches of closure, she saw the little man enter the kitchen and turn toward her, raising his gun.
    She flattened herself against the elevator wall, and as it began to move, a small hole appeared in the door.
    •   •   •
    Vlad swore to himself. He watched the elevator light as it moved downward. Should he wait for it to return, or use the main elevator or the fire stairs? He opted for the main elevator, hoping the car would still be waiting.
    •   •   •
    Betsy struggled into her shoes as the service elevator descended, then began looking through her handbag for something. As the elevator door opened in the garage, she found a pack of tissues and crammed it into the elevator door, hoping that would prevent its closing, then she ran for her car,