Chapter 10

I had two other haters on my enemy list: Antonio Machello and Henry Dawson. Each had been pissed at me for years. Antonio because of ditching him after three exhausting dates. And Henry because he falsely accused me of selling him a haunted condominium next to the Ohio River. Neither man liked me. Therefore, I deemed them my enemies, knowing, and feeling, they had bones to pick with me.

No matter who liked me or not, I had a trespasser inside the Tudor, my main concern at that dreadful moment. Slowly and carefully, I made my way downstairs, one foot after the next, gliding quietly from the second floor to the first. I held the Colt in my right hand, ready to use it at any second, even if bubbles of nervousness careened through my fingers and palms, up the lengths of my arms. Caution had overtaken my every creeping step as I descended the stairwell, ending my travels in the tidy foyer.