Digging through Time

The surf rolled gently to the sandy beach. The night was clear as the shadowed figure watched the house from the top of the stairway leading from the beach. 
Unaware of being watched, two figures appeared at the side doorway to the house. There was an embrace, a kiss, and the taller of the two, a man, walked to the beach road, turned right and disappeared. The second of the two, a woman, moved into the house. A soft click set the alarm system. All seemed secure. 
The stalking eyes walked slowly to the side door, keyed an access code into the security device and entered the house. The entrance was through a small work room and, passing a work table; a gloved hand reached for a screw driver and gripped it tightly. The newcomer entered the main area of the house and began a slow climb up the winding staircase. 
The stairway was steep and winding. The shadowed figure reached the upper hallway and walked knowingly toward the master bedroom. The screwdriver picked up in the work room was held tightly in the right hand. A free hand moved slowly to the knob of the master bedroom. The knob quietly turned. 
Dana Jordan was sitting at her dressing table. “94…95…96…97. Mother always said that one hundred brush strokes were necessary every night,” Dana thought. Dana glanced into her mirror as she saw the bedroom door opening. 
“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed. 
Her visitor didn’t speak but walked toward Dana still sitting. Dana looked down, saw the screwdriver and almost yelled, “What are…” 
Those were the last words Dana Jordan ever spoke.