Dovetail(61)

“Tell the truth,” Joe said, as they walked down the sidewalk. “Are you a little drunk, Miss Kathleen? I ask because it’s starting to look like we’re dating, and I know how you feel about that.”

She didn’t answer but laughed. He really was very charming. She was starting to forget about their age difference and her fear of men and relationships in general. Joe didn’t have any of the annoying attributes she associated with men in their early twenties. No stories of partying, no bragging, no trying to impress her with his strength or cleverness. He was just Joe. Smart, funny, kind. The friendship between them had come quickly and was uncomplicated.

She finally answered, “No, we’re not dating, but if I was open to dating, it would start with you.”

“And hopefully end with me as well.”

She found herself laughing again, giggling as they passed dark houses, the streetlights illuminating the way. Maybe she was a little drunk. A little punchy anyway. Three drinks weren’t much, but she hadn’t had anything alcoholic in a long time. Certainly, her tolerance wasn’t what it used to be.

He made her laugh all the way home, assigning names to garden gnomes in one family’s front yard and doing riffs on the street names they passed. “Why is it called Park Place when there’s no park and it’s not much of a place?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” she admitted.

“If it were up to me, it would be called Street Street. Far more accurate.”

She hung on to his arm, along for the ride, having such a delightful time that turning the corner to her street felt like a letdown, the end of the evening. “Thank you for walking me home,” she said. “I—” She stopped, noticing her house all lit up like a beacon. It appeared as if every light in the place was on, as well as the porch light in front.

“What’s wrong?”

“My house,” she said, pointing. “The lights are all on. I never leave them on.” A sense of dread came over her. Someone had been in her house while she was gone, and might still be there.

“Okay, let’s think this through,” Joe said calmly. “You’re sure you couldn’t have left them on by mistake? It was daylight when you left for work. Maybe they were on, but you didn’t realize it?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m really careful about not leaving lights on, and I always double-check before I leave. I’m a little compulsive about it, actually. I wouldn’t just forget. I never have before.”

“So you didn’t leave them on.” Joe’s voice was a balm for the knot in her stomach. “Does anyone else have the key? Maybe a neighbor who stopped in to drop off tomatoes from their garden or something?”

“The only spare key I have is at work hidden in my desk. No one else knows about it.” She gripped Joe’s arm more tightly.

He said, “Why don’t you wait here, and I’ll go take a look?”

“No!” she said frantically, not even caring if she sounded childish. “I don’t want to be alone out here. And what if you get attacked inside, and I’m out here and can’t help you? Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave you,” Joe said, and she almost fell to her knees on the sidewalk in gratitude. He made a suggestion: “Let’s just walk around the outside of the house together. We can check the windows and doors to see if anyone broke in.”

“And then we’ll call the police?”

“We’ll do whatever it is you want to do.”

The front door looked the same as always, as did the side of the house next to the driveway. When they got to the back door, they saw that one of the panes of glass in the door had been broken, making it easy for someone to reach in and unlock the door. Pieces of broken glass were on the stoop, but the door was closed shut.

“There’s our answer,” Joe said. “I’m sorry, Kathleen, but it looks like you’ve had a break-in, and it’s possible whoever did it might still be there. Let me go in and check it out.”

“No, no, don’t go in. Let’s call the police.” She was breathless and afraid, clutching his arm tightly, holding him in place.

“Okay, don’t panic. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“Just don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere until we know it’s safe. How about this? We can walk back to the main street and use a pay phone, or else we can wake up one of your neighbors and ask them to call the police.”

“Miss Whitt next door. She was a friend of my aunt Edna’s.”

They knocked on Miss Whitt’s door. After a long wait, the older woman answered in her housecoat, her hair in curlers. Initially Miss Whitt was confused, but once Kathleen explained what had happened, she was accommodating, going back inside to make the phone call for them.

Two officers, both middle-aged men, came fairly quickly. They asked Kathleen a series of questions before going into the house. Joe and Kathleen waited on the driveway.

When the officers came back out, Kathleen let out a sigh of relief. “What did you find?”

“We went through the whole house from the basement to the attic. Checked every cabinet and closet too. Whoever it was is gone,” Officer Rank said. “Besides the broken window, nothing looks disturbed, but only you can tell us if anything is missing, Miss Dinsmore.”