“I’m being careful,” she said. “I didn’t want to tell him where I live.”

“And you needed an excuse to check up on me.”

“Of course not. Why would you think so?” She began to wander, examining the downstairs.

“You didn’t happen to notice anybody hanging around outside, did you?”

Alert, as always, she stopped. “Why?”

“Finish your fact-finding mission, then I’ll tell you.”

Minutes later we were on the screened porch, rocking back and forth on the cushioned glider. I told her about my morning.

Sophie waits and then she pounces. “I assume you didn’t tell the deputy about Wendy’s little problem?”

“Of course not.”

“Because you don’t think the guy who came after you is related? Or because you’re protecting her?”

“Both.”

She looked pained. “Did the deputy have any advice?”

“He told me to get a dog.”

“Do you know how many people get dogs and then abandon them because they don’t really think it through?” Sophie volunteers at our local animal shelter. She fosters rescued chihuahuas until they find new and better homes.

“Maybe I could borrow Kiwi.” Kiwi is Sophie’s permanent chihuahua, old, overweight and only up for attacking a toe if absolutely required.

“You have better possibilities.” Sophie was a student of my past.

She waited, but when I didn’t take the bait, she moved on. “Your sister is absent because she’s afraid she’s going to be arrested for a murder she didn’t commit. A man tries to break into her home.” She let her words squirm uncomfortably between us.

“The deputy said he’s had several break-ins this week. He thinks it’s a group that travels through on a regular basis.”

“Could be.” She pushed the glider harder, and it squeaked in protest.

I asked the obvious question. “Wendy’s out west somewhere running from everybody. What could this guy have to do with that?”

“I have no idea. But coincidence is the catalyst of investigations.”

“And sometimes coincidence itself is the enemy because it’s thought to be more than it really is. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

“You’re planning to be extra careful?”

I didn’t tell her I’d already toyed with bringing my Smith & Wesson inside. Unfortunately, there were two small children in the house and no gun safe. And what would I have done with my gun today, anyway, had it been handy? Pulled it from my purse while the guy was rolling over me, and then aimed it at his chest? Florida is a “stand your ground” state, so I probably would have been within my rights to shoot him. Unfortunately, then I would have spent the rest of my life wondering if he’d only knocked me over so he could get away. And he would no longer be alive to clear up our misunderstanding.

Sophie was waiting for an answer. “I’m mulling my possibilities,” I said. “But I’ll come up with something.”

“I don’t have time to goad you. I want to tell you what else I’ve learned about the murder in Santa Fe. Then I have to scoot.”