He watched over her shoulder as the library’s virus software scanned the file and allowed it to open. She printed three copies. “Just to be on the safe side,” she said.

He was counting on her not looking too closely at his résumé, which was a sample that he’d downloaded from an employment website. He’d spent ten minutes changing the details to fake businesses in Hagerstown, but it wouldn’t hold up under too much scrutiny. Fortunately, she was too busy lecturing him on responsibility.

She shooed him out and wished him luck as he left the building.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The house was set back far enough that Tinsley didn’t worry about being seen. The row of tall Leyland cypresses obscured the sight lines from the street so that someone would need to come right up the front walk to spot him. Kneeling on the thick doormat that wished him a friendly forest-green “Welcome,” Tinsley picked the lock quickly and efficiently. He let the door swing open and listened to what it had to say. It squeaked, just a little, at forty-five degrees. The alarm beeped questioningly.

Tinsley stepped in, shut the door, and disarmed the alarm. As the perspiration cooled on his skin, Tinsley shivered involuntarily. It felt almost chilly inside compared to the oppressive heat outside. He walked to the back of the house, where the kitchen and sitting room combined into a great room. It was late afternoon and sunlight streamed through the large picture windows. A large flat-screen television was mounted to a wall where it could be seen from both the couch and the granite-topped kitchen island. The television was flanked by large built-in bookshelves that housed an array of hardcover books. It felt as though the volumes existed to offset, and in some way apologize for, the lowbrow presence of a television. It also felt like a woman’s home, although Tinsley couldn’t say why.

The doctor wouldn’t be home before seven. Tinsley had allowed himself plenty of time to familiarize himself with the layout—which doors were locked and unlocked, which creaked and which opened noiselessly, where the phones were located, whether he might be seen from any of the upstairs windows. He moved silently through the house, running his latex glove–covered fingers along the walls as if testing their sturdiness. He sat on the edge of her bed and thought about how she would stage it. How would a respected doctor do it? Make me believe, he thought. He sat that way for a long time.