She stood and walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a chamomile tea bag, and filled a mug with the instant-hot faucet. She reached into the refrigerator to add some milk to the tea. But the carton was empty.
Empty?
I just bought this yesterday,
she thought.
Have I used that much of it? If Michael were here, he would’ve bought a larger size.
But she realized that was not the point. How could she have used all the milk?
She took a sip of the hot tea and then spilled it down the drain. She had grown accustomed to drinking it with milk, the way Michael liked it. She shook her head, then folded her arms across her chest. “Michael this and Michael that. It’s time for me to stop being so dependent on him for every aspect of my life.” She looked down at Tucker, whose ears had puckered as if he were listening to her tirade.
She tossed the spoon into the sink, then walked upstairs to the bedroom. She fell back onto their bed and kicked her shoes off. “Where are you, Michael? It’s time to come home!”
She rolled over and grabbed his pillow again, hugging it against her chest and burying her face into the down.
But she didn’t pick up Michael’s scent. She looked at the pillow, then jumped off the bed and backed away. “Oh, my God. Oh my God!” She lunged forward for the Colt she had left on the night table. With trembling hands she grabbed the key around her neck, undid the metal lock, then struggled to pull the weapon from its velvet bag.
“Who are you?” she yelled into the dead air of the house. “Show yourself!” Tucker came running up the steps and into her room. Lauren swung the Colt at him, startled by the approaching noise, and was immediately relieved it was the dog. But upon seeing the gun, he began to bark, which only served to elevate her stress.
She looked down at the bed again and knew something was very wrong. She shoved her hand into her pocket, found Nick Bradley’s phone number, and started dialing.
He answered on the third ring.
“Mr. Bradley, this is Lauren Chambers. I’m gonna take you up on your offer,” she said rapidly.
“Is everything okay, Lauren? You sound—”
“No, everything’s not okay. Can you come over right now?”
“Now?”
“I think someone’s been in my house. He may still be here, I don’t know.”
“I’ll be right there. I’ll call the sheriff on the way and have him meet me there. Can you get out?”
“I’ve got a gun,” she said loudly, hoping the intruder would hear her.
“That’s real good, Lauren,” Bradley said slowly, “but I need you to just calm down or you’re not going to do anyone any good. If you go waving that gun around, the deputy isn’t going to want to help us out, do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Just come.”
“I’m on my way, Lauren. Just hold it together.”
She gave him the address, then sat down on the floor, her back against the wall, the Colt pointed at the doorway.
It took Nick Bradley only five minutes to drive the two miles that separated their houses. The loud rapping at the back door made her jump.
Lauren pushed herself off the floor and moved slowly out of the room, her eyes darting from side to side as she approached the stairs. She cautiously made her way into the kitchen, flipped on the porch light, and parted the lace curtain. Nick Bradley was standing there, eliciting a loud bark from Tucker.
“Are you okay?” he shouted through the door.
Lauren nodded, and the dog began barking. “It’s okay, boy,” she said, stroking his head. “He’s a friend.” She told Tucker to sit, then unlatched the lock to let Bradley in.
“The sheriff should be here any minute,” Bradley said, eyeing Tucker while stepping into the nook. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s the sheets,” Lauren managed to say before sitting down hard in one of the chairs. “I can’t take it anymore...”
Bradley sat down beside her, glancing again at Tucker, whose eyes were fixed on him, the dog’s weight forward, ready to pounce. Bradley gingerly removed the Colt from Lauren’s hands and placed it on the table. “What sheets are you talking about?”
“There are cheap floral sheets on the bed. My mother gave them to us when we got married. We’ve never used them.”
“And you think there were other sheets on the bed when you left.”
“I’m sure of it. And that’s not all. There have been other things, too. It started with the dog. First he was out, then he was in. Then the emergency brake and the milk—”
A knock at the front door sent Tucker running.
“The sheriff,” Bradley said. “I think it might be a good idea to tie the dog up somewhere.”
“He’ll be fine,” Lauren said as she made her way across the room. She told Tucker to sit, then looked through the peephole and saw a deputy standing there. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, then opened the door.
“I’m Deputy Matthews, ma’am. Is everything all right?”
“Thanks for coming, Deputy,” Bradley said from behind Lauren. He shook Matthews’ hand. “Nick Bradley. The one who called.”
“Dispatch didn’t give much information.”
“Dr. Chambers thinks that someone may have been in her house. I got here just before you did.”
“Did you see anyone, ma’am?”
Lauren looked down at the carpet and shook her head.
“Did you hear noises or was something stolen?”
“Nothing was stolen, but I’m sure someone was—or is—here.”
“Mind if I take a look around?” Matthews asked.
“I’d appreciate it,” Bradley said.
Deputy Matthews pulled a flashlight from his utility belt and his Smith & Wesson from his holster. “Stay here.”
After the deputy walked off, Lauren flopped down onto the couch in the living room, a cozy rectangular space in a country motif, with lace curtains, navy and white sofas, and a well-used fireplace. Bradley settled onto the edge of the sofa next to Lauren.
“Your Colt is licensed, isn’t it?”
“It was my daddy’s. I don’t know. I’ve had it locked away for several years.”
Bradley rubbed at his forehead. “All right, we’ll worry about that later. Meantime, you want to talk about what happened tonight?”
Lauren turned away.
“When the deputy comes back here, assuming he hasn’t found anything, he’s going to want a more complete explanation.”
“I don’t know where to start, it all seems so crazy.”
“The beginning is always best.”
Lauren’s face flushed and tears began to well up in her eyes. “I can’t handle this, Mr. Bradley, I’m coming apart.”
“Nick, Lauren. Call me Nick.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you just tell me what you know, maybe I can help.”
“Okay,” Deputy Matthews said, walking down the hallway, “the place is clear. Now, what was the first indication that there was an intruder?”
Lauren looked at Matthews and pushed away the tears with her fingers. “It’s the flowered sheets in my bedroom. Michael and I hate them, we never use them, but they’re on the bed.”
“Is Michael your husband?”
“Yes, he’s missing.”
“Oh, you’re Lauren Chambers—I’ve got it,” Matthews said, bobbing his head. “I saw a notice on the briefing board tonight when I started my rotation. Okay, go on. The sheets.”
“They weren’t there before, when I woke up this morning. There were solids on the bed, and I could smell Michael on the pillowcase. Then when I went to the refrigerator, the milk carton was empty, and I just bought it yesterday. And the parking brake in my car when I left the Neighborhood Watch meeting was set so hard I almost couldn’t get it unlatched—”
“I’m a little confused, ma’am,” Matthews said. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but what was it that made you think someone was in your house tonight?”
Lauren sniffled and looked at the deputy with wide eyes. “Don’t you see? The sheets. Someone changed the sheets on my bed.”
Matthews chuckled. “My wife always complains about the house chores. She’d be glad if someone changed the sheets—”
“You think this is funny?” Lauren said, her voice rising an octave.
“No, ma’am. I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t be joking at a time like this.” Matthews glanced sideways at Bradley, who was focused on Lauren. “Was there anything else?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Lauren said, stifling an urge to cry again, but failing.
Bradley reached over and pulled her close against his shoulder. “Deputy, how about getting Dr. Chambers a few tissues?”
Matthews frowned, then walked off, his stiff boots clunking against the wood floor as he went in search of a box of Kleenex.
“Lauren, you’ve gotta calm down. He’s not going to listen to you if you yell at him.”
She nodded and looked up to find Matthews approaching with a tissue box in his hands.
“Thanks,” she said, pulling one out and wiping her eyes. “This has just been a tough time, with Michael gone. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“Not a problem, ma’am. I understand.”
“I’ll be right back,” Bradley said, “I’ve got to go use the bathroom.”
Lauren looked at Matthews. “I told Deputy Vork about a car that was following me last night, but he didn’t seem to think it was important. Then my dog was in the house when I know I’d left him outside. The next morning, he was outside when I’d left him
in
the house with me the night before. With what’s been going on, I think that person who was following me is doing these things, to drive me from my home.”
“Now why would that person, assuming for a moment there is such a person, be doing that? What would he accomplish by driving you from your house?”
“Domination, power. I’m a psychologist, Deputy.”
“So who is this person?”
Lauren looked down and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Why would he be trying to dominate you?”
“Some criminals get off on that. Like rape, it’s all about power—”
“But we’re not talking about rape here.”
Lauren shrugged again, then looked up to see Bradley returning to the living room carrying a glass of water. He placed it on the coffee table in front of Lauren, who picked up the drink and took a sip. Staring into the cup, she said, “Rape could be his next step.”
Matthews shook his head. “Ma’am, I don’t mean to downplay—”
“Deputy,” Bradley said, “can I have a word with you for a moment in the kitchen?”
Matthews nodded.
Bradley placed a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “Will you be okay here for a few moments?”
Lauren shrugged off his hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“I think she’s gone off the deep end,” Matthews said. “And you know I have to run that Colt.” He looked at the kitchen table, where the gun had been lying. But it was no longer there.
“First things first,” Bradley said. “I agree she’s upset, emotional. Her husband’s missing, so to me, her reaction is perfectly understandable given the circumstances. But I do think there’s something really wrong here. There are too many coincidences—”
“What, that she thinks she put her dog in one place, but he’s really in another? She can’t remember that she finished a carton of milk? Or that her bed sheets are changed and she doesn’t recall doing it?”
“I admit it sounds strange on the surface, but what if she’s telling the truth?”
“I don’t doubt she’s telling the truth, Mr. Bradley. I just think she’s under a lot of stress with her husband gone, and she isn’t quite in touch with things. I’m sure she’d be the first one to admit it’s taking a mental toll on her.”
Bradley shook his head. “What if what she’s telling us actually happened? Suppose whoever’s responsible for her husband’s disappearance is also behind what’s been going on here?”
“That’s a huge leap, first of all. We don’t know why her husband hasn’t come home. Could be he’s screwing around behind her back. Or he could be buried under a snow bank somewhere in Colorado.”
“Those are possibilities, I agree. But if none of those scenarios are the real deal?”
“What would you like me to do, Mr. Bradley? We don’t have the manpower to post a twenty-four-hour watch on her place.”
“I just don’t want you to wait until she disappears like her husband before you decide to do something.”
Matthews regarded Bradley for a moment. “Fair enough. You got me. I’ll put in a request for hourly drive-bys to make sure everything looks okay. Will that do?”
“Only your department can say if that’s sufficient, Deputy. But I can tell you I’m sure Dr. Chambers will appreciate anything you can spare.”
Matthews nodded, bid his good-byes to Lauren, and left.
“Hourly drive-bys aren’t going to do much, are they?” Lauren asked.
Bradley, standing by the front door, leaned forward and peered out the peephole. “If you’re asking whether I think it means you can feel safe and secure, no, I wouldn’t go that far.”
Lauren nodded, then looked at the dog. “Tucker’s my best security system.”
“Except that someone’s been in your house and Tucker hasn’t stopped him.”
Lauren was quiet.
Bradley turned away from the door and stepped into the living room. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no. That’s okay.” She lifted her palms off her knees and extended her hands. Tucker pushed up off the floor and bounded over to her. “It is kind of strange, though.”
“Unless whoever’s doing this is someone your dog knows.”
“He doesn’t know anyone well enough to be comfortable like that.”
“For all you know, whoever’s been handling Tucker could’ve been coming by your house every day when you weren’t home, making friends with him, feeding him treats. Hell, even steak. No way that dog would turn on him. He’d be his buddy. If that’s the case, this guy’s a real pro.”
Suddenly, Lauren’s eyes widened. “That could be why he wasn’t hungry tonight. I filled his bowl and he never ate.”
“When the perp came over to change the sheets, he probably gave the dog a nice juicy meal.”
Lauren crossed her arms in front of her chest and hugged herself. “I feel so violated. Dirty.”
“I think you should consider staying somewhere else—like a motel, or a friend’s place.”
“I won’t be driven from my home, Nick. That’s what this sick bastard wants. That much I know, that much I understand.”
“But I’m looking at it from a safety perspective. Maybe psychologically it appears that he’s just trying to drive you from your home. But I think it’s more than that. Each incident has grown bolder. It’s as if he’s playing with you. Almost torturing you. If he doesn’t get what he’s looking for, he may turn up the stakes.”