Helen: But you have to figure the people who move there like it that way. Of course, it doesn’t mean that nothing bad ever happens. I was going over police reports for the neighborhood we’re considering, and there’s the usual tame suburban stuff. Traffic violations and petty theft. The neighborhood actually has its own designated deputy from the sheriff’s office. Here’s a fun fact: he gave faux tickets to anyone with valuables on their front seats or with their car doors unlocked.

Julia: So he’d try car doors to see if any of them were unlocked. Creepy.

Helen: Or really earnest.

Julia: It’s a little too “Big Brother.”

Helen: But there’s also some darker stuff. A meth lab within two miles of an elementary school rated in the ninety-fifth percentile. A home invasion. Car theft. So what happens in a case like the one we’re describing, when a perfectly nice, HOA-run neighborhood suddenly finds itself the site of a murder house?

Julia: You’re jumping ahead. First we have to meet our murderer.

CHAPTER

4

AFTER RAHMIA’S HUSBAND, a handsome man with heavy brows, picked her up, I paced around the empty house, looking for tasks that required little thought—retaping the box with memories of Aimee so Michael wouldn’t worry, wiping down the counters, moving books from one place to another.

In Jersey, I’d never felt alone like this. Our apartment was surrounded by other apartments, and I was never more than a thin wall away from another human being. And we’d had a doorman at the entrance, a person always there to keep me safe.

Now I checked and rechecked the alarm system until Michael got home. He was tired, I could see it in the heavy way he set down his bag, but as I told my story, the life came back into him.

“She just barged in?” He looked around, as though evaluating the safety of our home.

“She was scared. And I know her.” By sight, anyway.

“You need to be careful about opening the door to strangers.” Did he think I couldn’t be trusted home alone? It wasn’t like I’d just open the door to anyone.

“I know her. She’s not a stranger.” I wrapped my arms around my middle for reinforcement. Letting the wrong person in. That was something I’d done, to myself and to Michael too.

“Okay.” Maybe Michael regretted coming on so strong, because he said, “It’s still light outside. Let’s go see what happened.”

“I’m not sure where they live.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been sitting at a desk all day. It’ll feel good to stretch my legs.”