Stanley’s simple explanation sent chills down Val’s spine as she pictured what occurred behind that closed door. She tried hard not to think about it as the group moved forward. When Thomas turned the handle and pushed the door open, she wasn’t sure what to expect and anxiously looked in. The room was empty and clean, as if nothing had ever happened there. The air of innocence was unsettling.

“You were the one who found her, am I right?” Thomas asked Stanley.

“Yeah.” He looked at the floor when he spoke.

“How did that come about?” Thomas asked.

“The pipe under her kitchen sink was busted. When I came by to fix it, she didn’t answer. I thought I’d just let myself in to get it done and that’s when I found her.” His eyes lingered on the floor.

“If you came to fix the sink, what made you decide to look in the bedroom?” Jack asked. Val was thinking the same thing.

Stanley’s eyes shot up and stared at Jack. “I called for Jeanne when I let myself in. I expected her to be here. She didn’t go out of the house at all. I thought I heard a noise in the bedroom. So, I checked in there. You know, to see if she was all right.”

Thomas circled around the empty room, his footsteps loud in the small space. He looked out the window and turned back to face the four people staring at him. No one spoke and the room became eerily quiet.

“Stanley, didn’t you find Francine too?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah. Her mail was piling up. A lot of people who live here just take off with no warning. I thought Francine might have done that. So I checked.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and said, “I’ve seen all I need to here. Let’s move on.”

Francine’s place was on the other side of the complex. Thomas and Jack again kept Stanley engaged in conversation on the long walk. Val and Gwen followed close behind.

When the apartment door opened, Val felt as if she’d stepped back in time. Her heart began to bang nervously. The apprehension that she felt in Jeanne’s place was amplified at least a thousand times. It looked very much like it did the night she was last here. Remnants of fingerprint powder still covered the walls, light fixtures, doorknobs, and anywhere else someone would have made hand contact. Much of the furniture was still present too. Val wondered why keep it the same when Jeanne’s was emptied and painted.

“No one came for her things?” she asked Stanley.

“Can’t find anyone to give them to. I have nowhere to store this stuff, so I just keep it here. No one’s beating down the door to rent this place, so it really doesn’t matter.”

“Didn’t Francine’s sister come for her belongings?” Thomas asked.