“Sounds like they took you seriously.”

“They did. Very much so. They were great. The older one—I think his name was Carew—could tell I was scared to death. I told him it was possible I didn’t close the door all the way when I left for work, but I know I did. I always push until I hear the latch catch, and then I try the knob to make sure it’s locked. Anyway, the other one—a gal named Herkowitz—did a complete walk-through, checked all the doors and windows, looked in closets, looked under the beds, checked for tool marks. There was nothing. House was empty, and as far as I can tell nothing’s missing.”

“Well, that’s good news. You think it was kids?”

“Doing what? I don’t keep cash or drugs on the premises.”

“Addicts will break in anywhere. If neighbors know you’re a nurse, someone might assume you keep narcotics on hand.”

“Doubtful. The medicine cabinets in both bathrooms were untouched. No drawers pulled out and dumped. No evidence that anyone tore through in search of valuables. My camera, TV set, and jewelry are all accounted for. Not that I have much.”

“Maybe someone was trying doors at random and found yours unlocked.”

“The police said the same thing. I can’t rule it out, but it doesn’t feel right. They wrote up an incident report and suggested I get someone in to change the locks. I called a locksmith with a twenty-four-hour emergency service, but I haven’t heard back.”

“Who else has a house key?”

“My next-door neighbor’s the only one with a spare. I have one for his house as well for occasions when one or the other of us is out of town,” she said. “Is it possible someone picked the lock?”

“Of course it’s possible, though picking locks requires more skill and practice than you’d think. You’d still have to wonder why anyone would bother.”

She finished her wine and then refilled her glass. Her hands were shaking so badly, she had to use both to steady the bottle while she poured. She carried the glass with her while she crossed the room and then came back to the table.

I took a few sips of my own wine, hoping to quell the anxiety I was feeling in response to hers. “Why don’t you give me the details?”

“Forget it. I’ll just get all riled up again.”

“Come on. You’ll feel better. It’ll be cathartic. What time did you get home?”

“I don’t know. Six thirty or so. I worked noon to six, covering for another private-duty nurse who had to be somewhere. I put the car in the garage and came in the back way like always. It wasn’t ’til I was halfway up the back porch stairs that I realized the door was standing open. And I’m not talking ‘ajar’ open. This was wide open. If my neighbor hadn’t been home, I don’t know what I would have done. I would not have stepped that first foot inside for any reason. Not on your life. The whole place was cold. Still is. I don’t know how long the house was open. A long time.”