Nocturnal

Voyeur

Big Max held a glass of wine in his left hand. His right was against his ear, cupped to the wall that separated their apartments.

“Max, quit it,” Robin said. “You’re making me nervous.”

He leaned toward her in that way people do when they whisper. “There could be someone out to get you, but me listening to see if anyone is in your apartment is making you nervous?”

“Yes. It’s making me think about it and I don’t want to think about it. I just want to sit here and have all of us be quiet.”

Sitting there, on the couch, was about all Robin could do at the moment — Emma was on one side of her, weighing her down from the left, while Billy’s big head and shoulders weighed her down from the right. She couldn’t even reach out to the coffee table to set down her wineglass. At some point in the evening, she had become furniture for a combined 155 pounds of cuddly canine.

Max walked away from the wall and waved a hand in casual dismissal. “All right, honey, I’ll leave it alone. Not that it matters — I can hear just about everything that goes on over there. I sure did last night.”

Robin felt her face flush red. “You heard?”

Max smiled and nodded. “I did. All four times.”

Robin covered her face with her free hand. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too,” Max said. “I need a boyfriend like Bryan.”

“Ho-kay, Max, you’ve now embarrassed the hell out of me.”

He laughed and sat next to her. He scooped Billy up and dragged the limp pit bull onto his lap. Billy’s tail gave two thumps, then the dog went back to sleep.

“Well, I’m glad you guys took care of business,” Max said. “Was this just ex-sex?”

“What is that?”

Max sighed. “And they call you smart. Ex-sex is sex with your ex.”

“Oh. Actually, I don’t think we’re exes anymore.”

Max held up his wineglass. “Well then, here’s to true love.”

Robin flushed red all over again. She clinked her glass against his. “And here’s to friends — I’d be going crazy if I didn’t have a big, strong man to protect me right now.”

Max laughed quietly. “Yeah, right. You’re the one who’s packing heat.”

She shrugged. “Still, I’m pretty freaked out. Thank you for letting us stay here.”

He flipped his hand dismissively again. “Honey, please, you—”

A metallic clang from outside the building cut off his words. Emma and Billy lifted their heads. The arms of both owners slid around their dogs’ necks, holding them tight, sending them a clear signal to be still, and be quiet.

“Max,” Robin whispered, “what was that?”

Max nodded toward his curtain-covered window. “Fire escape.”

Robin thought of Pookie’s claims about people jumping across streets and scrambling up buildings.

Another clang. Then nothing.

“Robin, are you sure we shouldn’t call 9-1-1?”

She shook her head. “No. We can’t. We don’t know if it’s safe.”

And then Robin Hudson realized just how thin the walls really were, because she heard heavy footsteps coming from inside her apartment.