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On that Tuesday in January, when her life changed forever, Martine Rhodes ith a headache, developed a sour stouaranteed herself an epic bad-hair day byDustin’s shaernail, burnt her toast, discovered ants swarh the cabinet under the kitchen sink, eradicated the pests by firing a spray can of insecticide as ferociously as Sigourney Weaver wielded a fla e with paper towels, huned the tiny bodies to the trash can, and took a telephone call from her mother, Sabrina, who still prayed for the collapse of Martie’s hout, she remained upbeat—even enthusiastic— about the day ahead, because from her late father, Robert “Smilin’ Bob” Woodhouse, she had inherited an opti skills, and a deep love of life in addition to blue eyes, ink-black hair, and ugly toes

Thanks, Daddy

After convincing her ever hopeful e remained happy, Martie slipped into a leather jacket and took her golden retriever, Valet, on hiswalk Step by step, her headache faded

Along the whetstone of clear eastern sky, the sun sharpened

scalpels of light Out of the west, however, a cool onshore breeze pushed nant masses of dark clouds

The dog regarded the heavens with concern, sniffed the air warily, and pricked his pendant ears at the hiss-clatter of palm fronds stirred by the wind Clearly, Valet knew a stor

He was a gentle, playful dog Loud noises frightened hih he had been a soldier in a former life and was haunted by memories of battlefields blasted by cannon fire

Fortunately for him, rotten weather in southern California was seldom acco on the streets, whispering through the foliage, and these were sounds that even Valet found soothing

Mostthe narrow tree-lined streets of Corona Del Mar, but she had a special obligation every Tuesday and Thursday that limited their excursion to fifteen minutes on those days Valet seemed to have a calendar in his furry head, because on their Tuesday and Thursday expeditions, he never dawdled, finishing his toilet close to home

This rassy sward between the sidewalk and the curb, the pooch looked around shyly, discreetly lifted his right leg, and as usual h embarrassed by the lack of privacy

Less than a block farther, he was preparing to conclude the second half of his e truck backfired, startling hi cautiously around one side of the tree bole and then around the other, convinced that the terrifying vehicle would reappear

“No proble’s fine This is now a safe-to-poop zone”

Valet was unconvinced He remained wary

Martie was blessed with S with Valet, whoht have loved a child if she’d had one He eet-teold-and-white feathering on his legs, soft snohite flags on his butt, and a lush tail

Of course, when the dog was in a doing-business squat, like now, Martie never looked at him, because he was as self-conscious as a nun in a topless bar While waiting, she softly sang Jim Croce’s “Time in a Bottle,” which always relaxed him

As she began the second verse, a sudden chill cli her to fall silent She was not a woiven to premonitions, but as the icy quiver ascended to the back of her neck, she was overcoer

Turning, she half expected to see an approaching assailant or a hurtling car Instead, she was alone on this quiet residential street

Nothing rushed toward her with lethal purpose The only s were those harried by the wind Trees and shrubs shivered A few crisp brown leaves skittered along the pavehts, from the recent holiday, rustled and rattled under the eaves of a nearby house

Still uneasy, but feeling foolish, Martie let out the breath that she’d been holding When the exhalation whistled between her teeth, she realized that her jaere clenched

She was probably still spooked froht, the sahts The , raging

Then her gaze dropped to her elongated shadohich stretched across the close-cropped grass, draped the curb, and folded onto the cracked concrete pavement Inexplicably, her uneasiness swelled into alarm

She took one step backward, then a second, and of course her shadow moved with her Only as she retreated a third step did she realize that this very silhouette hat frightened her

Ridiculous More absurd than her dreaed distortion, aquality

Her heart knocked as hard as a fist on a door

In the severe angle of the es, too, but she saw nothing fearsome in their stretched and buckled shadows—only in her own

She recognized the absurdity of her fear, but this awareness did not diminish her anxiety Terror courted her, and she stood hand in hand with panic

The shadow seemed to throb with the thick slow beat of its own heart Staring at it, she was overcome with dread

Martie closed her eyes and tried to get control of herself

For a h to sweep her up and carry her inland with the relentlessly advancing clouds, toward the steadily shrinking band of cold blue sky As she drew a series of deep breaths, however, weight gradually returned to her

When she dared to look again at her shadow, she no longer sensed anything unusual about it She let out a sigh of relief

Her heart continued to pound, powered not by irrational terror anymore, but by an understandable concern as to the cause of this peculiar episode She’d never previously experienced such a thing

Head cocked quizzically, Valet was staring at her

She had dropped his leash

Her hands were damp with sweat She blotted her palms on her blue jeans

When she realized that the dog had finished his toilet, Martie slipped her right hand into a plastic pet-cleanup bag, using it as a glove Being a good neighbor, she neatly collected Valet’s gift, turned the bright blue bag inside out, twisted it shut, and tied a double knot in the neck

The retriever watched her sheepishly

“If you ever doubt my love, baby boy,” Martie said, “remember I do this every day”

Valet looked grateful Or perhaps only relieved

Performance of this familiar, hu and its warm contents anchored her to reality The weird incident rehtened her

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Skeet sat high on the roof, silhouetted against the so and suicidal Three fat crows circled twenty feet over his head, as if they sensed carrion in the

Down here at ground level, Motherwell stood in the driveway, big hands fisted on his hips Though he faced away from the street, his fury was evident in his posture He was in a head-cracking mood

Dusty parked his van at the curb, behind a patrol car emblazoned with the naated residential co beside the car,to appear simultaneously authoritative and superfluous

The three-story house, atop which Skeet Caulfield conteile mortality, was a ten-thousand-square-foot, four-million-dollar atrocity Several Mediterranean styles—Spanish modern, classic Tuscan, Greek Revival, and early Taco Bell—had been slaether by an architect who had either a lousy education or a great sense of humor What appeared to be acres of steeply pitched, barrel-tile roofs hipped into one another with chaotic exuberance, punctuated by too uised as bell toith cupolas, and poor Skeet was perched on the highest ridge line, next to the ly of these belfries