Prologue ~

The cell phone vibrated and danced across the smooth surface of the work table.

Kailey bit her lip and ignored it. She was almost done with the little dress. If she could just get this button to stay put…

The phone vibrated again and jigged close to the edge of the table. Kailey caught it just before it plunged to the floor.

"Hello?" The button on the dress that she'd been having trouble with slipped out from under the pressure foot of her sewing machine, shot across the room and bounced off the wall.

"Dang it!" She followed it with her eyes so she'd be able to find it once she got off the phone.

Speaking of which…

"Hello?" she said again. There was a sound on the other end of the line, a breath or a movement… something. She was certain someone was there. But only silence met her second salutation. Deciding that the call was probably just a recorded political message, Kailey started to shut it off.

"Kaaaai… llley…." a ghostly voice whispered.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Don't you recognize me, bitch?"

Kailey felt all the blood drain from her face, replaced by ice. The hand holding the cell phone shook so hard she nearly dropped it.

"Steve? Why are you calling me? You shouldn't call me." She tried to sound authoritative, confident. But her voice trembled and she knew he heard it.

"I'm coming for you, bitch, and you're going to pay. You put me in jail for nine fuckin' months, bitch! You're gonna pay!"

"Leave me alone!" Kailey shouted, but her voice wobbled with tears and her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought it would burst. "I didn't put you in jail! The court decided that. And you killed Bree. I know you killed her! Leave me alone!"

He ignored her shout. "You shouldn't have picked an apartment on the ground floor. It makes it too easy.

Kailey gasped. He knew where she was! He knew where her apartment was!

She ended the call and was in motion before the cell phone finished falling to the carpet. She slapped at the wall switch to shut off the lights and yanked the curtains closed so hard she nearly tore them from the rods. Racing into her tiny kitchenette, she hit the light switches there too and moved for the window over the sink.

How did he find her? Where was he? Was he here?

She grabbed the pull cord on the shade over the sink, but it slipped from her grasp when she saw the face outside the window.

She saw the baseball bat too, just before it smashed the glass.