Double Coverage

Chapter 9: Peephole

Chapter 9: Peephole

11:10 P.M.

Close friends knew that I enjoyed my evenings with a good mystery, glass of wine, and silence. Visitors were rare, perhaps even non-existent after nine. To have two in one evening might as well have been considered earth-shaking and a sign of Armageddon. As I walked down the flight of stairs after cozying Francine in her room for the night, heading in the direction of the box-shaped foyer with its beige ceramic tile floor, bronze elephant umbrella stand, and a closet for garments, I heard three light taps on the wooden front door. At first I thought it was the wind playing tricks on my ears, but there was no wind in the forecast according to the weatherman, Jeffrey Spindler of WTVC. Then I believed a haunting was beginning at 287 Willow Street, negatively affecting my mental facilities. After three more light taps were heard on the door, quick and steady knocks, I knew a second visitor had arrived.

Murders were not uncommon in Vanmer, I had learned upon residing there. And greeting a criminal at the front door, having my head bashed in with a Vanmer Vipers’ helmet was not out of the question. Violence seemed almost mandatory among humans regarding the theory of the survival of the fittest. Vanmer was certainly not above such a theory. Perhaps this is why I believed in the right to bear arms and kept a Colt .45 in a secret compartment behind one of the foyer’s baseboards. One could never be too cautious when protecting themselves at home.

A peephole was needed in the door. Shame on me for not instructing James Tidderlink, a local handyman, to install one. James was a very busy boy though, and had quite the list of jobs to accomplish in the neighborhood. To ask him to install a peephole in my front door would certainly be pushed to the bottom of his paying jobs.

James was rather attractive with his light-colored hair and wrestler’s type body. I would have gladly considered a s****l favor for the man to install the peephole. I was sure neither of us would have been upset because of such play and pleasure. An hour or more of fun with the blond hunk was out of the question, though. James was taken. A husky bear of a man with amber-colored eyes had swooped up his heart and planned on marrying him next spring. Good for the two of them, but bad for me, since I still didn’t have a peephole.

I could have been more cautious while opening the door, but curiosity twanged inside my brain and I turned the front door’s brass knob, pulled the wooden plane open, and just about dropped to my knees in surprise.

Standing there was no other than Beckley Roarke, grinning.

“Beckley, what are you doing here at such a late hour?” I asked, eyeing him from toes to head, studying his Nike running shoes, hairy and well-built legs, khaki shorts, teal-colored T-shirt that clamped to his hulking chest, and rugged looking face.