Five minutes later, Kaz was inside her house. She paused at the front door and looked up and down the street. It was empty except for an older lady walking her equally old poodle. Kaz unlocked the front door, stepped inside, and carefully locked it behind her. Her phone rang again. This time she looked at the caller ID and answered. “Hi, Jake. I just got in the door. I was going to call you.” She dropped her handbag on the floor and plopped down on the couch with the phone to her ear. “What happened?” She frowned. He sounded really pissed, which, for whatever reason, ticked her off. She gave him a snarky answer. “Other than someone trying to kill me? Not a damned thing.” At least the silence on the other end was gratifying. But only for a moment. “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word. “I hope you’re making a really bad joke, Kaz, but I want you to know I’m not laughing. What the hell happened?” She went through the entire scenario again, beginning with the pickup slamming into the coffee shop wall.
