Chet thumbed the safety off and gripped the pistol with both hands. He held it in front of him as he listened to the quiet, guiding noises. They had led him from his bedroom down the hall and toward the kitchen.
He stopped at the entrance to the living room. A half moon gazed through the bay window, affording just enough light to keep Chet from bumping into things. He stilled his breath and listened closely. Were there two intruders? The noise, or at least a noise, was now coming from the living room.
There … on the north … by the bookcase. Yes.