Lacey had asked as soon as Scott put down the phone. “Saving our hides.” “Dukane? Who’s he?” “The real-life Charlie Dane. Excuse me a minute, I want to get dressed.” He left her alone in the room. Lacey got up and followed him. When she reached the bedroom, Scott was stepping into his pants. “There really is a Charlie Dane?” Scott fastened his trousers and picked up his shirt. “Sure is. No trench coat and battered fedora, and he operates now instead of the forties, but the rest is pretty close. A hell of a guy. He’ll get us out of here. We just have to stay alive for the next four hours, till he arrives.” “Maybe we should call the police.” “What good would they be against an invisible maniac?” “What good will this Dukane be?” Scott grinned, for the first time since the attack looking calm and confident. “Good enough.” “What time is it?” Lacey asked. “Eleven forty.” “Is that all?” Only twenty minutes had passed since Scott’s talk with Dukane.
