To Catch a Creeper Read Online Free Page B

Baker’s emphatic. ‘Isn’t that correct, Mr Shannon? Here, this lady will tell you.’ She catches sight of me sneaking back to my house and waves me over. ‘She almost got killed. Drug addicts, mass murderers, you name it. She was only saying this morning.’
    ‘Oh,’ I reluctantly amble across to them, ‘I don’t believe I said mass murderers. Although there was those bodies found in Cranley…’ I stop as I catch Eleanor’s shrivelling glance. Is it my imagination or does she seem a teeny bit hostile?
    ‘Most of our customers find–’ the man in the uniform starts before Eleanor butts in.
    ‘It’ll make the property look ridiculous, Mother. Like Wormwood Scrubs.’
    ‘I really think one of our top of the line alarm systems–’ he starts again.
    ‘Not to mention the value plummeting,’ Eleanor once more interrupts. ‘When you come to sell it.’
    ‘Mr Shannon here is going to place some nice white bars on all my windows. Won’t that be sensible, Mrs O’Farrell?’ Now it’s Mrs Baker’s turn to talk over her daughter.
    ‘Er, maybe, yes. Shannon’s?’ I scrutinise the man’s green uniform. ‘You’re putting up bars? Why?’
    He smiles and shakes my hand. ‘Keith Shannon. Shannon Securities. Fitters of burglar alarms, home or office video systems, wall safes. All your security needs. We’re trying to persuade Mrs Baker here that no-one uses bars these days. Wouldn’t even knowwhere to look for them myself.’ He rolls his eyes at me, then across at Eleanor, making it pretty obvious that we’re dealing with a batty old lady. ‘Most of our clients are extremely satisfied with a top-notch alarm system. We can trigger all the entry points; have them wired straight to the police station. Someone so much as cracks a window, the cops’ll be on your doorstep.’
    ‘And just an alarm sign is enough to stop most would-be intruders, isn’t it?’ Eleanor looks from Mr Shannon to me and back again, rallying support.
    ‘Great deterrent,’ I agree enthusiastically.
    ‘But not as effective as bars, eh?’ Unfortunately Mrs Baker, the elder, is also rallying support.
    Oh God. I glance from one set of stubborn eyes to the other, then back again, not knowing which one to pin my colours to, when thankfully my mobile starts ringing.
    ‘Sorry, er, I have to take this.’ I quickly walk towards the road, out of earshot.
    ‘Good day?’ It’s Declan.
    ‘Good day to you, Bruce. How’s it hanging?’ I attempt an Australian drawl, which goes a bit South African at the end.
    ‘It’s hanging fine,’ he tries an East Coast American twang, but it comes out more Liverpudlian. ‘But what I meant was, did you have a good day at the office?’
    I can tell he’s smiling.
    ‘Terrific.’ I lie. ‘You?’
    In the background I hear Mrs Baker and her daughter have resumed their squabbling. I walk another ten paces forward.
    ‘Not wonderful. That’s why I’m ringing. I’ve a couple of things needing sorting so won’t make dinner. Meeting with senior executives and all that.’
    ‘Oh, OK.’ I’m mildly disappointed, but can’t get too distraught. After all, first time in ages he’s been late back and considering how overworked he used to be. ‘Well see you when I see you, I guess. I’ll leave something on the stove.’
    ‘Thanks. Better go. They’re buzzing me.’
    ‘And you’ve neighbours right on your doorstep you can call on too,’ Eleanor’s saying as I head back towards them all.
    ‘Neighbours,’ Mrs Baker’s expression oozes contempt. ‘Fat lot of good that is when they’re criminals themselves.’
    ‘No, no, you’ve got it wrong,’ I try and placate her. ‘The person who attacked me wasn’t a criminal. Just insane. I never even pressed charges.’
    Mrs Baker folds her arms smugly as if I’ve just added fifty points to her scorecard. ‘You see!’ she says defiantly. ‘Bars, I said, and bars it is.’
    ‘Mother!’ This time there’s no ambivalence about the look Eleanor