He took a deep breath of fresh air. The clean scent of pine flushed the smell of the city from his nose. Birds tweeted. Wind rustled leaves. Danny closed his eyes and gave himself over to the peaceful sounds and smells. Something small scurried through the underbrush. Things were alive all around him. The wilderness was more subtle than the sounds of traffic and people that signaled life at home. For a city dweller, the woods were strangely soothing. But then, northern Maine was the polar opposite of Iraq. Not even the memory of December’s tragedy could taint the peace of the forest.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood on the front stoop, but by the time he turned to go inside, the house was encased in the shadows of the surrounding woods. Even in a blackout, the city was never this dark. There were always headlights and billboards and other signs of humanity. Next time he went out, he’d be sure to leave on a light or ten to keep the night at bay.

He thought back to Mandy’s expression as he’d asked her if she slept. She deliberately hadn’t answered him, and the shadows under her eyes suggested long-term sleep deprivation. Danny knew it well. As soon as he’d mentioned the case, she’d gone on evasive maneuvers.

What else was she hiding?

Shaking off the thought, Danny grabbed his bag from his trunk. He pulled the utility knife from his pocket and opened the glove compartment to put it away. His hand stopped halfway there. He put the knife back in his pocket. Better safe than sorry.

He took his stuff inside. All modern glass and hardwood, the house was much nicer digs than the apartment he shared with his older brother, Conor. But the whole minimalist design didn’t appeal. Danny liked his houses old and broken-in.

Reed had wanted a totally fresh start with Jayne and was selling the house furnished. At the end of a short hallway, Danny found the master bedroom. He threw a set of old linens on the bed and stowed his shaving kit and a couple of towels in the adjoining bath. His duffel bag went on the dresser.

All unpacked. He was a live-out-of-the-suitcase kind of guy.

The unexpected encounter with the real estate agent had left him edgy. He paced through the house, checking exits and locks and possible escape routes by habit. The laundry-room window was unlocked. Danny secured it. Gotta love one-story dwellings. Every window was a door.

He meandered into the kitchen. Sleek and shiny, with top-of-the-line everything, the room had a commercial, sterile feel. The coldness was exacerbated by the emptiness of the space. Good thing Danny didn’t have any intention of cooking. He plugged the fridge in to chill overnight before he bought groceries beyond coffee and cake.