False Security Read Free Page A

she
relocked the deadbolts along with two chain locks.
    “You do know you’re in Wichita,
Kansas, right?” Mark asked. “We have our share of incidents, but it’s not the
crime capital of the world, especially not this neighborhood.”
    “We rent this place from an elderly
woman,” Rachel said. “She probably feels safer having so many locks. Oh, and
the house came furnished and decorated as is.”
    Mark followed her into the
living room and realized why she made the last statement. The avocado green
couch resembled one his parents owned during his youth, and the blue and orange
plaid recliner complemented the orange walls. “It’s very colorful,” he said.
They walked up two steps of shag carpet into a kitchen with yellow countertops,
accented by daisy wallpaper.
    “I don’t quite know what to
think about the house, but Danielle loves it.”
    “Is Danielle your roommate?”
Mark asked.
    “She’s more like a sister to me
than a roommate.”
    Not hearing any other noise in
the house, Mark asked, “Is she here?”
    “She’s out at some club, getting
into trouble, I’m sure.”
    “I take it you don’t approve.”
    “It’s not like I don’t approve
of her going, but clubs and bars aren’t for me. I would rather be at home
reading than in a club sitting at a corner table, sober enough to know most of
the people dancing look like complete fools.”
    Mark chuckled. “That’s a good
way of looking at it.”
    “Danielle’s a good girl, though.
She doesn’t go there to drink or pick up guys. She only wants to get out and
dance for a few hours. It’s her release from the stress of life.”
    “She never brings anyone home?”
    “Like I said, she’s a good
girl.” She opened a cabinet beside the sink and removed a coffee can and a box
of filters. Turning to Mark, she said, “There’s a catch to this whole coffee
thing.”
    “What?”
    A corner of her mouth turned
upward. “I have no idea how to make coffee.”
    “You have a coffee maker and you
don’t know how to make coffee?”
    “Danielle always makes it. I
never paid attention before. All I know is you add water and hot coffee
magically appears from nowhere.”
    “This particular coffee maker is
much easier to operate than you think,” he said. Taking the box of filters and
can of coffee grounds from her hands, he explained his actions while he worked.
“You put four scoops of grounds into the filter, then pour water into the top.
That pushes the hot water from the reservoir through the filter, and gives you
instant, hot coffee.” As soon as he stopped speaking, the first drops of coffee
fell into the carafe.
    “I’ll never remember that.
Kitchen appliances and I don’t get along.” Rachel wrinkled her nose. “I guess
it’s the kitchen in general that doesn’t like me.”
    He laughed with her. “Any other
catches I should know about?” he asked.
    “Nothing comes to mind.” Rachel
leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. Her mouth twisted into a
crooked smile. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself? I only know you
own a bookstore and you have great taste in mystery novels.”
    “I wondered about that. How do
you know I’m not some deranged, psychotic lunatic?”
    “Outside of being able to tell
you’re not one, ask me what I do when I’m not in your bookstore.”
    “What do you do when you’re not
in my bookstore?”
    “I volunteer at a domestic
violence shelter, where I teach self-defense.”
    “So if I was psychotic—”
    “You’d probably end up in the
hospital with any number of contusions and broken bones.”
    He raised a brow. “Good thing
I’m not psychotic. Now, I know you’re new in town, but you never said where
you’re from.”
    “Danielle and I moved here from
Indianapolis, but I’m originally from California.” She pulled two mugs off the
tree on the counter and handed them to him. “Are you from here?”
    “Born and raised.” He filled the
cups with coffee. “It might be a