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Maxwell's Silver Bullet (2)

I stopped in front of my door, puzzled about the light. While I went back over my day, I stepped out of my high-heeled sandals and bent to pick them up. Mom had forwarded the phone to voicemail and left for home at 4:30. Because of the book signing I’d joined her so I could shower and change.

It’s still light at 4:30, I mused as I reached for the doorknob. I didn’t even have the light on before we left for the day. Which meant someone who shouldn’t be there was in my office. Leave it to me to come up with the obvious.

Pushing the door all the way open I confronted a man with a flashlight standing beside my desk near the open French doors. At least I think it was a man. He had no neck and strangely, resembled a Rock’em Sock’em robot except for the hat pulled low over his face. In spite of the hat I could tell he wasn’t happy to see me. Of course the gun in his other hand might have given that away. See? Obvious.

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