“We don’t know if he’s involved,” O’Hara said. “He’s been living there for years. A perfect tenant, no noise, no guests. Travels a lot.”

“But human blood . . Mom said with a shiver. “People do cut themselves shaving,” said O’Hara. “We have to work with concrete evidence, Mrs. Potter. Facts.”

“The facts are that this maniac was right outside our door, and the police did nothing about it.” uIf it was the same man,” O’Hara said. “In a case like this you get a lot of jokers. Could just have been someone making a crank call.”

Dad looked disgusted. Jerram began a long story about a television program he’d seen, where the police ignored the warnings and the victim ended up dead.

O’Hara ignored that. “Rose, think hard, are you sure you didn’t recognize the man’s voice?” It was impossible to know if it was the same voice as the man in the blue car, or Wallace Romola or anybody else she knew. Nancy and Cyn and Carla had said it was a face she’d recognize. But what face? All she knew was that she had been inside his mind, and she wasn’t going to tell the police that.

She had to think harder, arrange and rearrange it because it was like an anagram.

The police would come to hook up their computers now. Chief Henning told them to answer all calls, try to act normal.

“Normal,” Dad said with sarcasm.

But the only option was to do just that, act normal, as if nothing were happening. The alternative was to stay inside and worry. Rose knew she had to go to Muriel’s to practice on Wednesday. For once, Mom agreed although she insisted on driving her down. Rose didn’t argue. She didn’t want a hassle. Just to get out of the house. Maybe get out of Bethboro.

As they came around the town common, they found themselves looking for Wallace.

“It couldn’t be him, Mom.”

“Of course not.”

But their minds had been contaminated.

“Isn’t that him over there?” Mom asked. “Hiding in those bushes?”

Rose couldn’t see, but she wouldn’t be surprised. Wallace liked to hide and jump out to scare people sometimes. Maybe she ought to admit it: Wallace wasn’t responsible. He could be capable of … doing things.

“If you see him, don’t talk to him,” Mom cautioned. Mom dropped Rose off in front of the studio door.

“Maybe I should go up with you, to be sure she’s here,” Mom said.

“It’s okay, there’s her car.” Rose pointed to Muriel’s red Toyota at one of the parking meters in front of Robando’s Real Estate.