Solitude Creek (Kathryn Dance 4)

"That's right," Dunn said. "Exactly. Everybody inside at this event tonight has to be able to get out, unobstructed. Fast."

"Chain off an area outside the doors?"

"And I mean chain off literally. Ten feet away. So he can't block them. Frankly, it'd be easier to cancel the event."

"You want me to cancel?"

"I'm just telling you the options."

"But you're leaning toward our closing."

"Easier for everybody," Dunn said.

"Not for us."

Seven thousand dollars...

"Look. I'm just saying," Dunn said. "Protect the exit area with chains and make sure the doors don't latch, so everybody can exit quickly in an emergency. Or you can cancel."

Shit on a stick. As if he didn't have enough to do already. "No, I'm not canceling. But if people sneak in because we've left the doors unlatched, that'll be on you."

"It's a book signing, right? You get a lot of gate-crashers at book signings?"

Meddle hesitated. "It's not like a Stones concert, I'll give you that."

"So. There. Now your smoke alarms? They've been tested recently?"

"We had an inspection ten, twelve days ago."

"Good. Still, I'll double-check them."

Meddle asked Dunn, "For the chain, to block off the perimeter, any type in particular? Brand names?"

"I'd probably pick one that a truck couldn't break through."

It sounded expensive. Meddle said, "I'll go to Home Depot now."

"Thank you, sir. I'm sure everything'll be fine... What is this book thing anyway?"

Meddle explained, "Hot new self-help thing. About living for tomorrow. I read it, like to keep informed about who appears here. The author says people live too much in the present. They need to live in the future more."

"Like what? Time travel?" The inspector looked perplexed.

"No, no, just think about where you want to be in the future. Picture it, plan it, think it. So you'll reach your goals. The title is Tomorrow Is the New Today."

Dunn frowned and nodded. "I'll check those detectors now. You better measure for that chain."

Chapter 30

Well, okay. Interesting.

Dance braked her SUV to a stop in one of the driveways that led to the Bureau of Investigation parking lot. She was between an unruly boxwood and a portion of a building occupied by a computer start-up.

Near the front door of the CBI headquarters Michael O'Neil stood in the lot talking to his ex-wife, Anne. Their two children--Amanda and Tyler, nine and ten--were in the backseat of Anne's SUV, visible through an open door. A pearl white Lexus, California tags.

The woman was dressed in clothes that were very, very different from what Dance recalled when Anne lived on the Peninsula with Michael. Then, it was gossamer, close-fitting gypsy outfits. Lace and tulle, New Age jewelry. Boots with heels to propel her to a bit more height. Today, though: running shoes, jeans and a gray jacket of bulky wool. And, my God, a baseball cap. Exotic had become, well, cute and perky.

Who could have imagined?