What are you doing in my house?" she yelped again. "What are you still doing in Vancouver? You took the tourist bus! Are you stalking women? Are you an escaped felon?" She moaned at the last one, biting her lip and tasting blood.
Iva's mind ran through the myriad of horrible possibilities. Why did she leave her mobile in the bedroom? "Oh, dear God, help me," she whimpered, moving as far away from him as she could, the plastic shower curtain wrapped around her torso as her last means of protection.
She had no weapon, and if she moved toward the counter to grab something he'd have her down on the floor before she could take another breath.
"I never left town," he said.
Confusion ran across his features as he took in the array of her belongings all over the master suite, his head swiveling back and forth between the makeup products on the counter and her open suitcases in the bedroom.
He obviously didn't expect her to be here. He was obviously completely psycho nuts. He obviously had purposely hid from the tourist bus and stayed in Vancouver for a nefarious reason.
"You just proved my point." Iva willed herself not to faint. "Now get out of my bathroom!"
"Right. Sorry," he stuttered. "Actually, I
didn't mean to---I didn't expect---"
"GET OUT!"
Her screech finally moved him to action. After stumbling back through the door, he slammed it closed.
"LOCK IT!"
A male hand came around the edge of the door and punched the button on the door handle, and then shut it again. Iva stared as the knob rattled back and forth to prove that it was locked.
The bathroom went dead quiet. Only the rippling sound of the bath water broke the silence.
Slowly, Iva pushed aside the clammy curtain and scooped up a towel from the floor. Inch by inch, she wrapped it around her naked body, staring death at the door, terrified it would suddenly open again and he would grab her and throw her on the floor.
Once more, Iva pictured her cell phone lying on the night table beside the queen-sized bed.
Shaking, she scrambled back into her dirty work clothes from the day. Unfortunately, the clothes wardrobe was in the bedroom and not the bathroom, but stinky clothes were the least of her worries, How did this man get into the house? He had to have broken in? Had he been stalking her since yesterday?
"I have to call the police," Iva moaned.
He hadn't attacked her yet, even when he'd had the opportunity, but right now that was small comfort. Rifling through the bathroom drawers, the linen armoire, and then the cupboard under the vanity, Iva finally came up with a wrench. Probably for fixing a leaky
faucet.
Armed, Iva felt much better. Except was he armed, too? Iva yelled through the door, "When I open this door I expect you to be gone.
Gone, you understand? I never want to see you again. Ever! And I'm calling the police. And I'm bringing charges for breaking
and entering."
She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, trying not to start crying. Funny odor rose up from her clothes, but she tried to ignore it, rolling her eyes. She could be such a girl sometimes.