Horoscope: The Astrology Murders by Georgia Frontiere Page A

circling and sniffing. “I thought I heard someone at the door.”
    “The photographer from
Luminary World
magazine. I forgot he was coming. I’m going upstairs to change. He’ll be back in a few minutes. If you’d just let him in, I’d appreciate it.”
    “I put some coffee up for you,” Emma said as Kelly started up the stairs.
    Kelly climbed three steps when she heard King howl and gnash his teeth—the kind of sound that did not bode well. She turned around and saw that the front door was open and King was no longer in the entry hall. She ran down the stairs to the open doorway. Standing with her feet on the inside edge of the threshold, her right hand holding tightly onto the doorjamb, she looked up the block toward Central Park and didn’t see King. She turned toward Columbus Avenue and saw him running west on 85th Street, chasing a white-and-brown terrier. Her heart palpitating, she forced herself to stick her head out of the doorway a little farther and scream out to him. “King! King!”
    The dog paid no attention; he just kept running after the terrier.
    Fear rose from Kelly’s stomach and seized her body. She desperately wanted to run after him, but she couldn’t move. Her heart beat even faster at the prospect of going out onto the street. Her face, her limbs, her torso broke out in perspiration, and she found it hard to breathe. She choked out, “Emma! Emma!”
    Emma hurried out of the kitchen into the hall. “What’swrong?”
    “It’s King,” Kelly said between quick, labored breaths.
    Emma looked at Kelly, and then she moved toward the open door as fast as her overweight body would let her. As Emma rushed toward her, Kelly met her eyes. She didn’t know what she would say to Emma if she could catch her breath long enough to speak. Then she saw in Emma’s gray eyes that she didn’t have to say anything: Emma knew, and seeing Kelly in pain hurt her. She didn’t waste a moment saying anything. She gently touched Kelly on the arm as she passed her and went down the steps.
    Her feet on the inside edge of the threshold, Kelly watched as Emma reached the sidewalk and headed west to pursue King.
    “King!” Emma shouted. “King! Come here!”
    For a while, Kelly could see Emma running toward Columbus Avenue, but soon she was out of her line of vision. The only way she could continue watching her go after King was if she went onto the front stoop, and that was something that every cell in her body told her she couldn’t do. Looking out the front door into the bleak October day, she was filled with dread that if she stepped outside, the world would just swallow her up. It made no rational sense, but she
couldn’t
move beyond that threshold; she felt that if she did, she would die. Her feet were planted on the threshold; her hand was gripping the doorjamb for dear life; her body shook with terror, and she was permeated with shame that she was so scared. Tears streamed from her eyes down her cheeks. One thing she knew: this had nothing to do with that phone call. She’d experienced this for weeks every time she opened the front door. She had become powerless, and as much as she’d searched for an answer, she still didn’t know why.
    She stepped back into the hall and wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

    Nearing Columbus Avenue, Emma was out of breath. She loved King, and she enjoyed walking him, but this was something else. Once again she told herself that she had to lose weight, and once again she admitted to herself that liking food as much as she did, she probably never would. She saw that King and the terrier he’d been chasing had stopped at the fire hydrant near the corner. Giving herself a mental pep talk, she picked up her pace and got to the hydrant while the dogs were sniffing each other. She grabbed King by the collar. While she caught her breath, he looked up at her with his blue eyes and voiced a forlorn howl in protest of her ruining his good time.
    “I know. I’m a