“No . . .” Flipping on the kitchen lights she tried to think over the rapid beating of her heart. Blue’s toenails clicked on the linoleum as he greeted her with a wagging tail and lowered head. “It was real crazy,” she said, dropping her purse on the table as she scratched Blue behind his ears. “We were running late. Josh had trouble with the knot of his tie and then had a fit about having to use the crutches and the next thing I knew, Tiffany was knocking on the back door.” She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “I don’t remember, but I always lock it. It’s habit.”

Luke’s gaze was thoughtful. Worried. Katie felt suddenly awkward. “Would you like ... some coffee or soda or . . . anything?” Why did the question sound so lame?

“I’m fine.” Jaw set, he strode through the kitchen and into the living room to her desk. Without asking, he pushed the Play button on the answering machine.

“Hey, wait! You can’t—”

The machine clicked as someone hung up.

Katie’s stomach curled and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. “Who was that?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Luke scanned the desk area. “Just about everyone you know was at Bliss’s wedding tonight, right?”

“Of course, but—”

“So who would have expected you to be home?”

“No one,” she thought aloud, her skin crawling at the thought that someone might actually be watching her. “You think it might have something to do with the letter?”

“I don’t know. It could be just a mistake, a wrong number, but it might be a crank—either this Wells character or someone looking for him.” His gaze fastened on hers. He was stone-cold sober. “But your door was unlocked. Someone could have been in here.”

Her knees threatened to give way at the thought.

She laughed a little nervously. “I can’t believe—”

“Sure you can. Now take a look around. Does anything seem out of place?”

Walking slowly through her few cluttered rooms, she eyed her belongings, touched a few pieces of furniture and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was just as she and Josh had left it when they had rushed out of the house and into J.D.’s Jeep. She would have sworn that, out of habit more than anything else, she had locked the door behind her.

“Nothing seems to be missing or out of place,” she told Luke.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure.”

“Would your dog have allowed anyone inside?”

“Probably, but I don’t really think anyone was here,” she said, though she had a severe case of the creeps. Thinking that an intruder, a stranger, had been in her house—in Josh’s room, for crying out loud—caused a chill in her blood as cold as all November.

“Maybe you should call the police.”