Dead on Arrival<br >I think it all started late one Halloween night a few<br >minutes after I d said goodbye to friends who d been<br >with me for dinner. When the doorbell rang it startled<br >me. I felt a sudden uneasiness and stood still to listen.<br >Nothing. It was 1:30 in the morning but still Hallow-<br >een. Who in the world could it be this late? My chil-<br >dren had been out trick-or-treating and were spending<br >the night with their father. So I was alone.<br > The bell rang again. It seemed loud and harsh in<br >the silence. The front page acco~nt of the "winsome<br >rapist" flashed into my mind. Theh I shook my head.<br >What an imagination! As I came through the swinging<br > door in the dining room I smiled at myself in the hall<br > mirror. Here I was， twenty-nine years old， an artist<br > with a new career， two lovely daughters and a fresh<br > chance for life and happiness. "Hedy，" I said to my-<br > self， "quit being so afraid. You just can t believe you<br > have the fight to be happy， can you? Everyone else，<br > but not you."<br > As soon as I opened the door and saw Danny look-<br > ing down at me， my stomach tightened and my hand<br > was cold on the brass door handle. I remembered our<br > last meeting and I knew instinctively what he d come<br > for. His eyes were strange， and his half-glazed stare<br > bored fight into me. He was on something heavy.<br > He stood there waiting for me to let him in as I had<br > a hundred times when we d been lovers. Too scared<br > to speak， I just shook my head. His eyes squinted<br ><br >
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