On my drive home, Casey called. "Wow, you answered! Casey started talking and my mind zoned out. I've never in my life had a problem getting a man, even with these couple of extra pounds on me. I'm still pure fire.* "Hey, I have to go," I told her. "I'm pulling up to my place and have to take all of my work things in." "All right, but be sure to lock up behind yourself. You know that guy is still on the run." "I can't believe someone did something so crazy." "He's kinda cute," Casey said. "You saw the pictures of him?" "Hello! He's dangerous," I reminded her.

"They want him bad too; they've got everything locked down trying to find him. He's not getting out of this one — not after what he did to those cops." "Yep." I parked my car. "All right, girl, I'll call you tomorrow." "Peace," she said. I laughed. I grabbed my purse, then popped the trunk and rounded the car to get all of the things I needed for my work over the weekend. The last thing I took out was my rolling laptop carrying case. As I pushed my key into the lock, I felt a hand on my side. I automatically smiled. My baby hadn't forgotten me. "Don't say a word, don't scream, and I won't hurt you." That voice didn't belong to any man I knew. I jumped. "What?" "Don't talk. Just open the door," he instructed me. "What do you want?" My hands dropped and the keys dangled in the doorknob. "Please don't do this to me." "Just open the door, lady." I saw a weapon at his side. "Oh, my God." Tears came. "Please don't hurt me." "Open the door," he said, his voice tight with impatience. As I turned the key, I remembered an episode of Oprah where the self-defense instructor warned about never letting someone take you to a second location — that it was almost always worse for the victim. I turned the knob, pushed the door open quickly, and twisted to run, only to trip on my own laptop bag. "What are you doing?" He looked down at me. "Get up and get in there." He raised the weapon slightly. I heard someone talking on a cell phone a few feet away, around the corner. I needed to buy time so she could see me, or him, or what he was holding. "Please, you can go inside and take whatever you want," I pretended to bargain. "I'll tell you exactly where my money is." He was losing patience. "Get in there." A sharp metallic click followed — a sound I'd only ever heard on TV, and it always meant the person it was aimed at needed to move. So I did.