"No. Nothing. He's never been in jail. He's never done anything."

"Well, that seems promising."

"What I really need is to find another investigator, one who will dig deeper. And I don't want to tell Linda about it."

"Why not?"

"Because she doesn't want to face the truth about Wolfgang. She won't pursue this. I need to find out what he's up to-and fast. And I want to do some checking on Trevor, not because I think he's a murderer. I need to know if he's cheating on me."

"Gwyn, this is serious business. You have to go to the police. Kelly is dead. This guy's not fooling around. If he finds out-"

"That's exactly why I can't go to the police, not yet. What if they botch things and decide to interrogate the guys? Either man could retaliate, or at the very least skip town, like Craig did. The cops never found him. It's too big a risk. Right now, I have the advantage. I think I should keep it that way."

"Yeah, but I still think you should go to the police."

"And I plan to, as soon as I have something more to give them than this letter. That's why I'm going to hire my own investigator. Do you know anyone that's good?"

"I've never hired a private detective, but I guess I could ask Nate. He should know of a good one."

"And don't tell him it's for me."

"Geez, I hate to start out by lying to the guy. But I suppose I could say that somebody at the bar asked about one, and wants to keep it hush, hush. Yeah, I guess I could do that. I'll call him as soon as I get home. I'll get in touch as soon as I know something."

"Okay, great. Thanks, Care. I really, really appreciate this."

"You might want to think about hiring yourself a bodyguard too. I'd sure feel better if you did."

"I think Trevor might notice someone hanging around."

She shook her head. "You're scaring me, Gwyn. Big time."

"I shouldn't have told you."

"No, you definitely should have, and before this."

"I was worried for you. I guess I figured the less people that knew, the better."

"Gwyn-about Kelly's letter. You didn't say it, but you do realize she may have been talking about Josh too. Right?"

"You can't believe that any more than I do."

"No. But I had to mention it."

After Caroline left, I got a call from Trevor. He wouldn't be home until after eight, though he'd thought earlier he would be home in time for dinner. Some contracts needed signing. Details of the transactions required clarification, and whereas it was supposed to be done tomorrow morning, it turned out it would have to be settled tonight. He was apologetic-too much so. I didn't mention the puppy, since he sounded so harried already.

I couldn't sit still, so drove into town to the pet store to buy Annabelle some things she needed, a doggy bed, leash, and toys to chew. I brought her with me in the Jeep, first disconnecting the pa.s.senger-side airbag with my key, then snugged her into an old blanket on the front seat. She appeared to laugh at me and just as quickly unsnugged herself and disappeared into the recesses of the Jeep-leaving me to wonder about her safety. I did prepare for her rapid-fire running sprees at the pet store with a makeshift leash I'd fashioned from a rope I'd found out in the garage.

After the purchases, I drove by the old house. Dusk was slowly turning to dark. I pulled the Jeep to the opposite side of the street and turned off the engine, then watched for several minutes as the lights inside the house switched on. I just had a feeling I couldn't shake.

For a half-hour I trained my eyes on the front window, crouched low in my seat, Annabelle watching too, apparently sensing something afoot. Just as I was about to call off my vigil, a human shadow pa.s.sed behind the curtains. I stiffened, hair rising at the back of my neck. I ducked lower as the silhouette stopped, stood for a moment, then backed away. Though the curtains were drawn, they were also thin. The intruder was possibly unaware of how easily he could be seen.

I dialed Caroline, who answered on the first ring.

"It's me," I whispered. "Care, someone's in the house."

"Which house?"

"My old one."

"Where are you?"

"I'm parked across the street."

"Don't you dare go near it. I'll call Nate."

"Should I leave?"

"Yes, leave."

"Maybe I should stay, just in case they take off. Maybe I'll see whoever it is."

"Leave and go park at the head of the street. Now let me hang up so I can call Nate."

"What if it's Linda?"

"Linda?"

"Maybe she's over there and didn't tell me, or maybe she sent Wolfgang over to check on the new locks."

"Do you see her car?"

"No, but maybe she parked in the garage."

"Well, call her and find out, but leave."

I stayed put, though now it was too dark to see should anyone exit by the back door. I dialed Linda's cell phone, but didn't get an answer, only the recorded message. Linda's home number was no better, again the machine. I pulled Annabelle into my lap, and the puppy, perhaps sensing my fear, settled down, watchful.

Another few minutes pa.s.sed. Then out of the darkness a car pulled slowly in behind me, its headlights flooding the Jeep. I froze and fumbled for the key in the ignition-too late. A frightful visage with empty eye-sockets materialized at my window. It almost stopped my heart until I realized it was Caroline, her features grossly distorted by the bright light.

Annabelle jumped up, barking furiously.

"Shush," I said, pulling her back. I rolled the window down partway.

"You were supposed to meet us at the head of the street," Caroline said.

"I was just leaving."

Nate appeared behind her. He was wearing street clothes, but held a gun at his side. He took off across the road and disappeared behind the house. Another police car sped to a stop a moment later. Caroline and I watched as two more cops jumped out and ran to the porch.

"I didn't see anyone leave, but I couldn't see the back," I said.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in town buying stuff for Annabelle. I just thought I'd drive by and take a look."

"Well, that was a good idea," she said sarcastically.

I studied Caroline's face. She looked normal now, but I was tempted to mention how awful she'd looked a few moments before. I decided against it. "Did you get a chance to ask Nate about the detective?"

"Yes, I did. He said he'd look into it. Gwyn, you can't keep doing stuff like this. I told you-you're scaring me. It's way, way too dangerous. Promise me you'll stop. Okay?"

"Okay."

"And let me in. It's freezing out here."

"Sorry, forgot."

Nate came out ten minutes later and put his face to the window. "No signs of anyone now, except for old footprints near the back door and in the drive. Those could be mine or one of the other guys. We've been coming by to check every so often. We're taking a closer look at those."

"Well, I saw someone. Thanks for getting here so fast, Nate."

"Sure. And don't worry. We'll catch him eventually. And there's a good chance he'll decide things are getting too hot around here and move on."

I turned to Caroline, then again to Nate. "That does it. I'm selling the house. I've had enough of this. I'll tell Trevor to put a sign up tomorrow."

The following day, Trevor, Nate, Caroline and I met at the house. Trevor wanted to take inventory before putting the house on the market, make note of some minor fix-ups that might improve its resale value. Care brought Nate along to check things out before we entered-just in case.

I'd also talked to Linda, who agreed immediately to the sale, and a.s.sured me that neither she nor Wolfgang had been by the house the previous evening.

I held Annabelle in my arms and followed Trevor as he listed items that needed repair. The puppy, making all the right political moves, had campaigned and won Trevor over, wiggling and running in circles on his arrival last night, acting as though Trevor were an old and valued const.i.tuent. Unfortunately, I suspected that Annabelle had mistaken Trevor for Josh, returning for a visit.

"It needs paint," I said, gazing at the kitchen walls and cabinets.

"This house needs a lot of things, carpeting, curtains, counter tops. But it's salvageable," he said.

Just then, Nate walked in, joining me and Trevor. "I have to go on another call. Caroline wants to stay. That okay?"

"Sure," I said. "Where is she?"

"Upstairs."

"I'll go find her."

Trevor grabbed his coat and began to follow Nate out the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Outside. I want to inspect the exterior of the house."

I found Caroline standing in Kelly's old bedroom, the one Linda, Kelly and I had shared as kids.

"Strange, isn't it?" I asked.

"What?"

"Being here."

"Yes, it is."

"I wish I didn't have to sell the house. I really don't want to. You'll probably think I'm crazy, but sometimes when I'm alone here, I swear I can feel her presence." I glanced sidelong at her. "Not like a ghostly presence, just her essence, I suppose. Somehow, it's still here. And a lot of memories are connected to this house, most of them good."

She nodded. "I don't think you're crazy. She is here. I can feel it too."

"Really?"

"Yes."

I sighed. "But I guess I should sell it. Linda wants to, and all this trouble.... And I don't like the idea of anyone else in here, some vagrant taking advantage. Kelly wouldn't like it either. I guess it's best. Get a new family in here. Bring some life back into the place. It might be nice to drive by and see kids playing in the yard again. You think so?"

"Yeah, I think so."

The front door slammed and Trevor shouted up the stairs. "Hey, you two, get down here. I want to show you something."

We ran down the stairs and followed Trevor outside to a spot next to the window of my father's little room.

"Maybe I should join the police force part-time," he said. "Watch this." Carefully, he eased his fingernail into the edge of one of the four gla.s.s panes just below the mid-point of the window. With a flick of his finger, the pane dropped into his hand. "There's no caulk around this pane. Someone used gum or something to stick it back in place. But as you can see, it's easy to dislodge."

"Nate probably couldn't see that last night," said Caroline.

"After that," Trevor said, "it's just a matter of reaching in and releasing the lock. Slide up the window and he's in. The lights were off in this room."

He pointed out the many windowpanes with loose and flaking caulk. "And the walk goes right by the window, so n.o.body's going to notice footsteps."

"The storm windows are out in the garage," I said. "It seemed like such a waste of time, putting them on, taking them off."

"That would have made it harder," said Trevor, "but not impossible. I think this guy was going to find a way in either way."

Chapter 17.

"You're sure you want to talk about this here?" asked Caroline. She'd quit work early, and was seated near me at a table in the far corner of the bar at the Wild River Grill.