“Doesn’t shyness usually make you suspicious? My mother always talked about her middle sister, my aunt Edna, being afraid of her own shadow as a kid. When I knew her, she was a scary crone who rarely left her house, hated the Masons and the Baptists and kept a shotgun propped by her bed.”

“That sounds like more than shyness.”

“Probably. You don’t want to know about most of my relatives.” He laughed. “Model families.”

We got in the car. I said, “Shyness isn’t a single trait, anyway. There are people who just enjoy solitary pursuits. Without them, there’d be precious little music, art, or literature, not to mention higher math. Others withdraw because they’re anxious about being judged. Some of that’s probably hardwired at birth—babies who startle easily are more prone to be introverts. But that doesn’t imply pathology, just human variety. Plenty of introverts are perfectly happy to be that way. But in Frankie’s case, it sounds more problematic. Poor social skills and trouble reading people can create a confusing world. When your head’s filled with static, you can lose your balance. A predator able to overcome her resistance would score an easy target.”

“He’d have a good victim, too,” he said. “No problem leaving behind physical evidence.”

“The time it took to find the body.”

He nodded. “Parents live minutes away but she shut them out and ends up lying there, undiscovered for at least a week. Pathetic.”

“She was the family outcast,” I said. “Her sibs are more conventional and outwardly successful. The fridge is plastered with a lot of photos. Everyone but Frankie.”

He looked at me. “That’s why you got the water?”

“No, I got it because they needed it. Seeing the fridge was an added benefit.”

“Reward of virtue … you really see Frankie succumbing to someone like Fellinger?”

“Would you imagine Kathy Hennepin dating Kleffer? There’s no way to know which key fits which lock until you try a bunch out. I’m sure Fellinger gets out of his suit once in a while.”

“What, he comes into the bookstore wearing a concert T-shirt and jeans with calculated holes, buys something weird, and Frankie falls in love?”

“More like she sank slowly into love. He’d take his time, dropping in repeatedly, browsing, ignoring her. All the while, he’s scoping her out until the time comes to begin worming his way into her life. Probably by claiming some sort of mutual interest.”

“The Joy of Two-Headed Embryos.”

“That would work. So might the fact that he’s older—substituting for a father who disapproves of her.”

“Yeah, Bill’s no peach.”

I pulled away from the curb. “Something else just occurred to me: her landlords and her parents.”

His eyes widened. “They’re alike.”