“I told you to trust me.”

A tiny bit of panic left Emma’s eyes and she nodded. “Then let’s go inside and take a look at these samples,” she said in her regular voice and glanced over Shaye’s shoulders.

Shaye heard footsteps behind her and turned to see a tall, heavyset woman, probably in her thirties, walking with a cane. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her makeup was a little too dark for the middle of the day.

“Patty.” Shaye watched as Emma forced a smile and waved her hand between the two of them. “This is Patty. She lives in the neighborhood and is my Realtor. This is Carla. She’s one of the decorators I’m going to talk to about updating a few things in the house before I get it on the market.”

Patty stuck her left hand out to Shaye. “My right side doesn’t cooperate as well,” she said as Shaye shook her hand. “I’m glad you’re thinking about doing some updating. I wouldn’t put too much money into it, though. The house is going to bring a great price simply because of the condition it’s in, but a little updating to the kitchen and the master bathroom wouldn’t hurt.”

Emma nodded. “I’m going to talk to a couple of people, then if you have time, I’d like to get with you and see what you recommend.”

“Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready. Me and the house aren’t going anywhere. It was nice to meet you, Carla.”

“You, too,” Shaye said and followed Emma up the sidewalk and onto the front porch.

“MS,” Emma said. “It’s heartbreaking. She can’t be much older than I am, but she can’t walk without a cane. Yet every day she gets a mile in. Most able-bodied people don’t bother to walk at all, and she’s out struggling for every step.”

“That’s tough,” Shaye said as she watched Patty slow down to cross over a section of broken sidewalk.

Emma pushed the door open and they stepped inside. “Do you want something to drink?” Emma asked.

“That would be great.”

Emma waved Shaye toward the back of the house. “The kitchen is this way. I have no idea what I’ve got in the refrigerator, so we may have to settle for water.”

“That’s fine.” Shaye followed Emma down the hallway to the kitchen and took in the small room while Emma dug around in the fridge.

“Do you keep a set of spare keys for your car somewhere?” Shaye asked.

“Yes. In the drawer next to the sink. Why?”

Shaye pulled open the drawer and pushed the stuff inside around, looking for a car key. “Because he couldn’t open the hood of your car without one. There’s no key in the drawer.”

Emma whirled around. “He must have taken it when he broke in.”

“Probably so.”

The window over the sink was closed but the curtains were open, and Shaye could see the nosy neighbor as he stepped outside and peered toward Emma’s window. Shaye lifted her hand to wave at him and he hurried off to the other side of the lawn.

“That’s Mr. Abshire,” Emma said. “He doesn’t miss much.”

Shaye turned around and took the can of diet soda that Emma offered her. “Was he standing in his front window waiting for you to pull up?”

“Probably. If he wasn’t so old, and was remotely sneaky, I’d think he was the stalker.”

Shaye smiled at the thought of the man she’d just seen—who had to be eighty years old if he was a day—sneaking into Emma’s house. “He’d never make it up those narrow stairs. And if he did, going back down them would get him.”

Emma nodded. “True. Aunt Margaret moved to the bedroom off the kitchen the last couple years she was living. It’s tiny, but the stairs got to be too much for her. I was terrified that she’d fall and no one would be around to help her.”

“I suppose Mr. Abshire wasn’t as nosy when it was only your aunt here to spy on.”

Emma smiled. “Oh, Mr. Abshire would have totally hooked up with Aunt Margaret if she’d given him the time of day.”

Shaye was glad to see Emma smile. She’d been worried that being in the house would make Emma even more panicked than she was when she’d arrived, but she seemed to be relaxing some with their casual conversation. Unfortunately, Shaye needed to get down to business.

“Is it all right if I look around?” Shaye asked.

“Of course.”

Shaye opened her duffel bag and pulled out a small tool set that she tucked into her back jeans pocket, then grabbed her cell phone from her purse and left both bags on the kitchen table. “I’m ready for my grand tour.”

Emma guided Shaye through the downstairs rooms. Shaye took pictures as they went, not because she spotted anything of relevance but because you never knew when something might become relevant. Her goal was to keep Emma from returning to the house until the stalker was apprehended. The windows were all intact and showed no signs of tampering, just as Jackson Lamotte had said. Not that Shaye had doubted him, but she wouldn’t be doing her job if she didn’t check herself.

They headed upstairs and into the master bedroom with its connected bath. Emma showed Shaye the bathroom window she’d left open and the tree branch outside that could have been used for her escape.

“Is the alarm box in the master bedroom closet?” Shaye asked.

“Yes.” Emma opened a door and Shaye entered the small walk-in and opened the panel on the security system box.

“I looked at it that night,” Emma said, “and it all looked fine to me, but I’ll be the first to admit I have no idea what I’m looking at. The cop who searched the house looked too, but he didn’t mention anything being wrong.”

Shaye pulled the tools out of her back pocket and went to work on the electrical outlet that held the power adapter. “He wasn’t looking as closely as me.” She worked the electrical plug out from the wall and held it up for Emma to see. “It’s not wired.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “But isn’t there a battery for when the power goes out?”

Shaye nodded and lifted the battery out of the security panel box. She pulled the right battery terminal off and looked at it, but it appeared okay. When she pulled the left one, it snapped off completely, leaving small bits of a clear plastic substance in her hand.

“What is it?” Emma asked.

“Superglue. He broke the terminal and glued it on to make it look like it was still connected.”

The bit of color that had returned to Emma’s face, left. “But how did he get inside the house to begin with? I changed the locks.”

“If someone has the right tools and knowledge, they can pick a lock. What did David do in the military?”

“He was infantry, but he trained to repair their trucks and other equipment.”

Shaye nodded and made a mental note.

“Why would that matter?” Emma asked. “I mean, we’ve agreed that it can’t be David…”

Shaye placed the battery back in the panel and closed it. “No. But it’s probably someone who knew him.”

“Someone who might have the same skill set. I see.”

“Have any of David’s coworkers or military buddies shown up?”

“I was just thinking about that last night, but the answer is no. I’ve only met a handful of people that David knew, so it wasn’t like I was close with any of them. I assumed it was because of the way he died. I mean, what do you say to the widow who killed her husband?”

“Probably not ‘can I have your number’?”

Emma stared at her for a moment, then broke into laughter. She laughed so hard she stumbled backward into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down her face. Shaye stepped out of the closet and closed the door behind her, happy that Emma enjoyed her joke. Eleonore had used the same ploy so many times in therapy when things got difficult for Shaye to handle. This was the first time Shaye had tried it herself.

Emma finally regained control and wiped her eyes with her fingers. “Oh my God. I needed that so badly. I can’t even remember the last time I laughed. I mean really laughed.”

“Have you thought about talking to someone…I mean, about all of this?”