“Give me an example.”

“Little things. Nothing obvious. I’d put mail on the counter and come back later to find it not quite where it was. I’d see books leaning at odd angles in the bookcase, which is a bugaboo of mine. Or a light would be on when I distinctly remembered turning it off. I do that automatically because it’s what my mother taught me. Leave a room, turn the light off. I kept dismissing and discounting my perceptions.”

“This is bringing up the hair on the back of my neck.”

“Well, it’s scaring the shit out of me, too.”

Suddenly, the phone rang and we both jumped.

Ruthie crossed to the counter, and when she picked up, it was quickly apparent she was talking to the locksmith who’d returned her call. I disconnected my attention while she went through the exercise of explaining what had happened and what she needed done. He was available, and the two agreed to his arrival within the hour. Once she hung up, she sat down again, and I could tell she was feeling better now that help was on the way.

“Why would someone do that?” I asked.

“What, move things around? To spook me, I guess. It wasn’t with an eye to ripping me off. There was ample opportunity for that. This was something else. ‘Sly’ is the only way I can describe it.”

“Had to be a guy. I can’t picture a woman pulling the same stunt.”

“A woman would certainly be capable, but I agree. You know what’s weird? Anybody who could slip in like that could slip out again without leaving a trace. This was deliberate. It wasn’t until today I felt the reality sink in. Even then, if you’d told me it was my imagination, I’d have taken your word for it.”

“No alarm system?”

“Well, no. When Pete was alive, we didn’t need one. After he died, I could’ve had one installed, but I’m not used to thinking that way. The neighborhood is quiet and it’s always felt safe. It’s not like we have vandals or burglars. I’ve checked all the windows and doors, and there’s nothing out of line. Locks, window latches, everything’s closed up tight, so how’s this fellow getting in?”

“We’ll come over in the morning and do a proper search. I’d rather tackle it by day so we can see what we’re doing.”

“I’m not making this up, am I? Really, this is making me feel crazy.”

“Don’t worry about being crazy. I just met a good shrink and I can probably get you a discount.”

It took her three seconds to realize I was joking, and even then I knew the attempt at humor was lame.

The locksmith arrived and rekeyed the front and back doors, along with a little-used side door. While Ruthie threw a change of clothes and toiletries in an overnight bag, I gave Henry a call to tell him Ruthie would be spending the night and asking if she could leave her car in his driveway. I knew I’d manage to find parking, but I didn’t want her driving around in the dark in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Of course Henry agreed. I didn’t stop to explain what was going on, and he didn’t press. There’d be plenty of time for that when I knew what we were dealing with.