Part 14 (1/2)

”Things have moved.”

I walked slowly inside.

My father's chair was farther forward, as if he had pushed it closer to the television set, and the throw rug was askew.

”What?” she asked.

I sniffed the air. ”Do you smell that?”

”No, what?”

”I'm not sure. I've never smelled it in here before.” I turned slowly in a circle. ”Someone's been here.”

I walked into the kitchen and turned on the water. It flowed smoothly, telling me that someone had used it recently, since yesterday, when I'd visited. ”Someone's been in the house.”

”Does anyone come over here besides you? What about the neighbors?”

”No. Linda is the only other person with a key. And I don't think it was her. She doesn't like coming over here.”

We checked the first floor, but could find no signs of a forced entry.

”These locks look old,” said Caroline. ”I doubt if they'd give much of a problem to someone who knew what they were doing.”

I didn't mention that the locks were the same ones that had always been here. I'd changed nothing after Kelly died, even though Linda had thought we should.

We inspected the second floor, and I thought I could discern the impression of a body on my parents' bed, even though the bedspread was still neat.

”You might have a tenant you don't know about,” Caroline said.

”I think you're right.”

We walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen. The refrigerator was empty, but still, it smelled as if something, some type of food, might have recently been inside.

”Why do you keep the refrigerator on?” she asked.

”It's either that or leave it open, and sometimes I keep a cold drink in there when I come over and clean stuff.”

”I think you should call the cops and have them take a look around. Keep an eye on the house. And you should definitely change these locks.”

Well, duh, I thought, feeling tired and increasingly annoyed at each of Caroline's many suggestions. Hoping to taunt her, I said loudly, ”Maybe we should check the bas.e.m.e.nt, see if we can catch them.”

”No, I think we should leave-p.r.o.nto.”

”No, I'll check it. I'll be right back.”

She grabbed the back of my coat. ”Don't you dare.”

At that precise moment, gla.s.s shattered in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

”My G.o.d,” she shrieked, pulling my arm. ”Come on!”

Caroline sat at the wheel of Jeep, now parked a block away, talking on her cell phone to the police. ”Yes, it looks like we have a break-in.” She gave the address, which I had written down and held up for her to see. ”We heard gla.s.s break in the bas.e.m.e.nt as soon as we said aloud we were going down there.”

She ended the call, then turned to me. ”It probably would have been better if you'd talked to them yourself.”

”No, they'd know I've been drinking and might not believe me.”

Caroline drove the Jeep to the head of the street and we waited for the police car to roll by. When it did, we followed it back to the house.

Lights whirling atop the squad car, two male cops emerged, slamming doors. We pulled beside them into the drive. One of the guys came over to the window of the Jeep and looked in.

”Thanks for getting here so quick,” said Caroline. ”She owns the house.” She pointed at me.

”Best if you stay in your car while we make a search of the premises. Do you have a key?”

I handed it over and watched as the blue-eyed cop, fresh-faced and exceedingly cute, walked to the front door. ”He was looking at you, Care.”

”No, he wasn't.” But I saw the corners of her mouth twitch into a faint smile.

The other cop, an older guy, had already gone around to the back of the house. For ten minutes, the two men searched, first the house, then the garage and surrounding yard. Finally, after several short trips to our window and more questions, not all related to the break-in, the cute one leaned up against the Jeep. ”No one in there now,” he said. ”We found a gla.s.s jar, broken, down in the bas.e.m.e.nt. We'll take what's left of that back and check it for prints. How long has this house been vacant?”

”About two years,” I said.

”Ever notice signs of anyone before?”

”No.”

”Who else is allowed in the house?”

”My sister, but she doesn't come by, really. And my husband, but he never comes over here, well almost never, and my sister's husband. He might have a key too.”

”I'd strongly suggest that you change the locks, get dead bolts, a better system. If the house has been empty this long, you might have a vagrant who thinks he's found a rent-free place to stay. It doesn't look as if the house has been disturbed too much. I'd also check to make sure one of your relatives wasn't over here and didn't tell you. You might want to think about renting the place or selling it too. Save yourself some grief. We will make a point to come by and check on things.” He smiled at Caroline, who had managed to flirt with him and find out his full name, Nathan Tobias. ”And I wouldn't advise coming here alone. Call us. We'll swing by and give things a look first.”

He touched his cap, then both men got into their car and sped away.

”I've seen him before,” Caroline said as she drove toward her apartment. ”I think he comes by the Laundromat I go to every once in a while, but not in a uniform.” She tapped her fingers to her lips. ”G.o.d, the last time I was over there I looked like h.e.l.l. I won't anymore.” She turned to me. ”You have to promise me you won't go in that house alone anymore. Okay?”

”I promise.”

”And if you do have to go over there, for anything, make sure you call me first. Got that?”

I was sober now, and quietly hating myself for being angry at my best friend, who was certainly a better friend to me than I'd been to her recently.