Free No Sanctuary by Richard Laymon

the timer, hadn’t even bothered to look for it, the living room lamp was obviously equipped with one. It would be set to turn on the lamp after dark and kill it around bedtime.
    Nobody in there after all.
    Hearing the grumble of a car engine behind her, Gillian looked around. A Corvette. Slowing down as it approached.
    Her heart lurched.
    Oh Jesus, no!
    But the car didn’t swing into the driveway. It went by and turned onto the driveway of the house next door.
    Gillian hesitated.
    She must’ve been seen.
    Okay, she thought. Fine. Great, in fact.
    As the Corvette stopped in front of the gate at the far side of the neighbor’s house, she cut across the lawn, heading for it. The engine went silent. The headbeam died. A man climbed out from the driver’s door, swung it shut, and walked around the low front of the car.
    “Hi,” Gillian called.
    “Hello,” he said. He was slim, dressed in dark slacks and a sport shirt, and appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He had a friendly smile.
    “I’m Gillian,” she said. “Glad you came by. I’ll be staying at Uncle Fredrick’s place till he gets back. You know, house-sitting?”
    “Didn’t know he was gone,” the man said.
    “Well, I was afraid he might’ve mentioned he’d be away, and maybe forgot to tell you I’d be watching the place for him.” She grinned. “Didn’t want you thinking I was a burglar or something.”
    “You don’t look much like one,” he said. “I’m Jerry Dobbs.”
    Gillian offered her hand, and he shook it. “Nice to meet you, Jerry.”
    “From around here?”
    “I’ve got a cramped little studio apartment in West LA. Which is why it’ll be so nice spending a few days here.”
    “I can imagine. I was an apartment dweller myself till I scraped up enough to get this place. Hated every minute of it. Confining, no privacy ...”
    “Exactly,” Gillian said. “Well, I’d better let you go. It was nice meeting you.”
    “Same here. Look, you need anything, just drop over.”
    “You mean like a cup of sugar?”
    “Or company. Whatever.”
    “Thanks. Maybe I will.” She backed away, raising a hand in farewell. “I’ll see you around, Jerry.”
    “Right. So long.”
    Gillian headed across Jerry’s lawn. She felt him watching, so she glanced over her shoulder and smiled, then continued toward the house. That had turned out great. Seemed like a nice guy, Jerry. If he’d been suspicious at all, he sure hadn’t shown it.
    Now, Gillian would be able to make herself at home without worrying about what the next-door neighbor might see or hear. A terrific development.
    Inside the house she made her way through the darkness to a table lamp. After turning it on, she knelt on the floor beside the lamp that had gone off. She followed the cord, pulled the plug for the small plastic timer unit and inserted it into the wall socket. The lamp came on again. She turned off the other one.
    After securing the door, Gillian carried her suitcase, purse and high-heeled shoes into the bedroom. She removed a few items from the suitcase, then packed her sweater and skirt.
    She made a detour into the living room to pick up her wine glass.
    In the bathroom, she had a few sips while she undressed and waited for the tub to fill.
    She set the glass on the edge of the tub. She stepped into the water, sat down, and sighed with pleasure as the heat wrapped her to the waist. She stretched out her legs.
    Flinched rigid as a bell jangled somewhere in the house.
    Someone at the door?
    Oh, Christ. And me in the tub.
    She braced herself, ready to spring out, but the ringing came again and she realized it was the telephone.
    A call. At this hour.
    Her skin crawled. She saw goosebumps rise on her submerged thighs, felt her nipples tighten and pucker.
    Calm down, she told herself. One thing’s certain, it isn’t for me.
    Unless it’s Jerry.
    But it’s not, she thought.
    Each bray of the phone scraped her nerves.
    It’s not for me. That’s the main thing. It’s