A glance through the tiny diamond of glass in the front door showed her that Kyle was standing there, his hand poised as though to knock again. She wasn’t sure why he had come. She hoped his visit wasn’t going to include an invitation to a relationship for which she wasn’t ready. Sarah squared her shoulders, opened the door, and beckoned him inside.
* * *
“Sarah, how are you doing?” Kyle looked around. “I see the restoration people I recommended are at work,” he said.
“Yes. Thanks for your help in that.” She closed the door and pointed him toward the living room. “Detective Larson is here. I called him to say I’d remembered some other things that might be helpful to him, and he came by with some questions.”
“What—”
“Connie reminded me of some events I’d either forgotten or repressed. I thought the police should know about them.”
“But—”
“Kyle, I can handle this. But you’re welcome to sit in if you like.”
In the living room, Kyle exchanged greetings with Larson and took a seat in a chair at right angles to the sofa. Sarah eased down next to Larson, careful to keep some distance between them. She glanced at the two men and could tell the tension between them was almost palpable. Well, there was nothing she could do about that right now. She felt a bit of tension herself.
Larson had his notebook out now. “Tell me again about the events you mentioned,” he said. “I need any details you can remember.”
Sarah said, “They started about six months ago. My phone would ring well after midnight, sometimes as late as two or three a.m. The caller ID showed ‘blocked number’ or ‘anonymous call,’ I can’t remember which. At first, I answered, but there was never anyone on the line. Pretty soon I just let it ring without answering.”
“Did you try dialing star sixty-nine?”
“No, initially I figured it was either a wrong number or maybe some kids playing a prank. Then, when they continued, I tried to just ride it out.”
“Did you think about changing your number?” Larson asked.
“I could have, I guess, but it would have been a hassle to do it. I’d have to notify lots of people—the hospital, other doctors—and I . . . Frankly, at that time I didn’t want to invest the time and effort.”
“How many times did this happen?” Larson asked.
“Probably four, maybe five, all about a week apart. Finally they stopped, and I thought things had run their course. But a few weeks later I saw a prowler outside my window. At least, I think I saw one.”
“Tell me about that,” Larson said.
Sarah suppressed the shudder she felt. “I went to close the blinds in the living room one evening, and I saw the bushes outside the window moving as though they’d just been disturbed. I looked past them into the yard and that’s when I saw him.”
“Who?”
“I saw what I thought was the outline of a man running away. I recoiled, sort of a reflex I guess, and when I looked again there was nothing there.”
“Did you see a car?”
“No. I listened for a car starting, watched for headlights, something to show I wasn’t imagining things, but the street was quiet.”
Larson looked up from his notebook. “Was it a man or a woman? Tall or short? Did you see—”
“I have no idea. Frankly, I wasn’t even sure I’d seen anyone outside. I decided it was my imagination.”
“Did you go out to look?” Larson asked.
“No. I just closed the blinds, checked to make sure the doors and windows were locked, and went to bed.”
“Did you call the police to report this?”
Sarah shook her head. “The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I was imagining things. Maybe I should have reported the incident, but right then was a bad time for me. I was doing well to put one foot in front of the other.”
“What about the next morning?” Larson asked. “Did you look outside in the daylight? Were there footprints in the flower bed?”
“Like I told you, I tried to ignore the incident. I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined it.” Sarah said. “Besides, it rained that night. Wouldn’t the rain have washed away any footprints?”
Larson ignored her comment and moved on. “Was this the only time you thought you saw a prowler?”
“I think so. But frankly, I kept the blinds closed day and night after that, so if someone was outside, I didn’t see him anyway.”
Larson looked up from his notebook. “Any other incidents?”
“No.” Sarah said. “Do you think these are related to the fire?”
“They could be,” Larson said. “At least this information gives me a time frame to start my investigation.”
“All these happened after Harry died,” Kyle said. “Right?”
Sarah nodded but said nothing.
Larson stood and pocketed his notebook. “I wish you’d let us know about these things when they happened, but I can understand how you must have felt about that time.” He looked directly at Sarah. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but I will. Keep your doors and windows locked. Arm your security system. Do you have a gun?”
“I . . . I don’t have a security system,” she said. “And I don’t have a gun. Harry got rid of his when Jenny . . . when we knew we were going to have a baby in the house.”
Kyle turned to Larson. “Do you think she needs one?” he asked.
“I can’t give you an official position on that,” Larson said. “But if you had a pistol, with a permit, and you knew how to use it, this would be the time to keep it handy. In the meantime, I’ll arrange for a patrol car to drive by here periodically for the next few days. I’ll be in touch, but call me if anything comes up before then.” He handed her a card.
“I already have your card,” Sarah said.
“This one has my cell number on the back,” Larson said. “Use it . . . anytime, day or night.”
After Larson was gone, Kyle said, “I came by hoping to buy you dinner.”
“I can’t eat, Kyle,” Sarah said. “But thank you anyway.”
Kyle stood and looked down at Sarah. She could tell he had something on his mind, but after a moment he simply nodded and said, “I’ll give you a call in the morning.”
* * *
Sarah was in the living room, staring numbly at the walls, when Tom Oliver found her to tell her they were leaving. He promised to be back tomorrow, Sunday.
“About what time?” she asked.
“I figured you might want to go to church, so I thought sometime after noon,” he said. “It looks like we may be able to have almost everything done by sometime Monday. Maybe even late Sunday.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Oliver stood there for a moment longer, apparently thinking. Then he turned away without saying anything more. In a moment, Sarah heard the front door closing.
After the house was quiet, she wandered around and found the crew had accomplished a lot. Bare floors in a couple of areas awaited new carpet that would be ordered Monday and put down when it arrived. No problem—she could stand