"Wade-Intruders" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wade Susan)

To see his face.

She had always lived alone, ever since college. Somehow, her affairs never
seemed to progress to living together. All these years of dating, falling in
love, and still she'd never found the right man. She had turned forty-six in
February, on the sixteenth. Her mother had always called Julia her belated
Valentine. But her mother had been dead for almost two years, and Julia had
never known her father.

She had first seen the man in her house a week or so after her birthday. It had
been frightening at first, when she thought he was a real intruder. It took
three phone calls to the police -- three humiliating trips to her house during
which they found no one on the premises and no sign of forced entry -- before
Julia realized they never would find him. She wondered whether his appearance
was related to her birthday. Imagining things so she wouldn't have to think
about turning fifty?

But long after birthday twinges subsided into the compelling well-orchestrated
chaos of her career, she would return home to find the man standing in that
spot, waiting motionless for -- what? It happened most often near dusk. After
the third time, she stopped racing to her neighbor Rob's house to call the
police. The fourth time he appeared, she had gone straight indoors to try to
capture him, to prove -- to herself, at least -- that he was really there. Not
just a strange set of shadows that lived at the top of her stairs.

There was no one inside, no one there at all. She walked back outside and stood
on the pavement staring at the window. No shadowy figure showed. He had been
there. He had. And now he was gone. She gathered up her briefcase and left
again, not even pausing to put on lower-heeled shoes. Ordinarily, she preferred
not to eat in restaurants. She got too much of that when she traveled on
business. But that night she found herself unable to stay in the house after
seeing his figure so clearly. Not when she was utterly certain he had been there
on the landing. Not when she could now find no trace of him.

She left the house and went to a Bennigan's because it was easy, and ordered
Irish whisky on the rocks, along with a salad and boil ed shrimp. Then she
cracked her briefcase and settled into work. Three too many whiskies later, she
shoved the advertising presentations her reps had prepared back into the case.
She wasn't able to concentrate on them tonight and she was damned if she would
let her standards slide.

The brass rail behind the booth she sat in felt cool when she turned and leaned
her cheek against it. The tang of the brass polish was sharp enough to taste.
Her booth was in an alcove near the bar. A tall man sat there, drinking a
Schlitz and watching baseball on the big-screen T.V. He wore a dark green jacket
over a black T-shirt and jeans, with boots, and his big body managed to look
loose and easy on the uncomfortable bar stool.

He glanced around, caught her eye, and smiled. Without considering Julia smiled
back. He was tall, a bit lanky, and his jacket was dark. She wondered what he