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“Oh, heavens no.” The old woman looked to Nate. “If I’d seen anyone, I would have called the authorities right away. It must have happened overnight, or during the morning while I was out running errands.”

Just their luck, the burglars broke in while the neighborhood busybody was away from her post. Or perhaps they watched the area enough to know when Mildred wouldn’t be around.

“Do you remember if Rita had a lot of luggage with her?” Nate asked.

Mildred hesitated, as if thinking about it. “No, nothing more than usual. Whenever she goes out of town, she uses one of those little bags with the wheels on the bottom that you can carry onto the plane so you don’t have to pay to check it in.” She made an unladylike noise to express her displeasure. “The nerve of those airlines, charging for every little thing. Next thing you know, they’ll have a coin slot for the bathroom.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Nate said, and Mildred practically beamed at him. “It’s a shame you weren’t around when the break-in happened. Is there anybody else in the neighborhood who keeps an eye on things like you do?”

“Not anymore. Edna Johnston used to live across the street in 1509, but she went into assisted living four months ago. Most of the other folks around here tend to keep to themselves, and the house between mine and Rita’s is a rental.” She said rental with the same tone others might use when referring to cockroaches or crystal meth.

Dorcas got the impression this conversation wasn’t going to yield any other useful bits of information. “If you remember anything that might apply to the break-in, could you give me a call?”

“Sure. I’d be happy to help.”

Dorcas gave Mildred her number, which the old woman programmed into her phone. As Mildred tapped away, her nose scrunched up. “What’s that smell?”

“The aquarium broke.”

“Oh, honey, you need to take care of that before it ruins the entire carpet.” Mildred rattled off instructions that involved a water-and-vinegar solution and a whole bunch of baking soda. “Make sure to give the carpet time to dry before cleaning the baking soda up. Otherwise, it’ll clog your vacuum.”

“Will do, Mildred. Thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome. If you need anything else, I’m two doors down.”

Nate held the door open for Mildred, not closing it until the old woman was halfway down the walkway.

“She seems nice,” Dorcas said.

“She’s nosy as hell, but in this case it’s a good thing for us.” He walked back to the living room, picked up his can of soda, and took a swig. “Your sister left in a hurry, but she still had time to pack.”

Yes, she’d caught that detail as well, but Dorcas wasn’t sure what to make of it. “She might have taken whatever the key fits with her.”

“It’s possible, but it doesn’t feel right in my gut.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck as he paced the living room. “What were your sister’s exact words when she asked you to take care of her house?”

“I don’t remember the exact words. She just said she was going out of town for a couple of days. Usually, she puts an automatic feeder in the tank, but it wasn’t working and she wanted me to come in and feed the fish twice a day. I actually should have stopped by that morning to do it, but...you know, there was that whole thing with the lost key.”

The thought of what might have happened if she’d walked in on the burglars sent a shiver down Dorcas’s spine. It was possible she might have scared them off, but most of the other likely scenarios ended on a much darker note.

“Did Rita say anything else?”

“Just that she’d be back on Friday, and she’d call if anything changed.” Giving in to the urge, she checked her phone again, her stomach sinking when she saw no incoming texts or voicemail messages.

Nate continued to pace back and forth across the room. At the rate he was going, he’d wear a path in the carpet, and then she wouldn’t have to deal with the odor. “There has to be something we’re missing. All of the signs point to her knowing she was in trouble. Maybe she didn’t hide whatever it is here, but she left a clue for its whereabouts.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Hell if I know. It could be anything: a note, a letter—has she sent you any emails or texts lately?”

“Not in the past week or so. The only time we talked was on the phone.” She’d been busy; her sister had been busy. Next thing she knew, a month had passed. In her mind, she made a vow to keep in better contact with her sister once this was all over.

Nate rubbed the back of his neck. “When you were kids, was there a place where she liked to hide things? A place she didn’t think anyone else knew about?”

“Not that I can—oh, wait.” Her pulse jumped. “Yeah...yeah, there is.”

With the memory fresh in her mind, Dorcas made a beeline for the room that was set up as Rita’s office, to the bookcase stuffed full of books. Though the shelves were crammed, they were meticulously organized, with textbooks and manuals occupying the bottom two shelves, and fiction paperbacks filling the remaining three.

In all the excitement, Dorcas had forgotten about the books, mostly because they were one of the few items in the house that hadn’t been trashed. Also, she’d been focused on finding a lock that fit the key, and the notion of searching for something small enough to fit in a book hadn’t occurred to her.