It was only then that I noticed the position of the bathroom door. I always leave both it and the small window wide open to clear any condensation after my morning shower. Now the door was barely ajar. Could a gust of wind have caught it and blown it shut? But today had been paricularly hot and airless - there'd been no wind of any kind, let alone gusts strong enough to move a heavy door. Perhaps Gorgonzola prowling round the empty house had pushed it shut? No way. She was quite capable of pushing open a door with one meaty paw, but she couldn't have closed it behind her.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. Some primitive instinct told me that I was not alone, that there was someone else in the house. I held my breath, listening for the scrape of foot on floor, the noisy breathing of someone as jittery as myself... Not a sound. But then, an intruder wouldn't be jittery. Professional intruders never were. His breathing would be calm, measured, under control.
I took a firm grip on the car jack in the carrier bag and moved silently forward...
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