Page 19 of Alibi for Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #2)

But the door had been locked.

“Steve!” She backed out of the room as she shouted. She looked right then left along the hall to ensure no one was coming out of another room.

The intruder could still be here.

“Steve!”

He was bounding up the stairs before his name stopped echoing in the air.

He looked from her to the open door and back. “What happened?”

“Someone’s been here.”

He crossed to the door and had a look inside. “Downstairs is clear. Let’s have a closer look up here.”

They walked from room to room, checked the usual places. Under beds, in closets, behind doors. There was no one hiding anywhere they looked.

“They’re gone now,” Allie acknowledged, “but someone was definitely here.”

“No question. We can call the police and report the intrusion if you’d like.”

She shook her head. “No. If we do, we’ll just be alerting the FBI, and they’ll likely show up again. At the moment, I just want to know how he or she got in the house.”

“Should be easy enough to determine,” Steve suggested. “Let’s check the doors and windows more closely.”

They returned to the first floor. The front door had still been locked when they arrived. It was doubtful anyone had entered the house from there in light of the three deadbolts, but Steve had a look anyway. No indication the locks had been tampered with.

“No scratches,” he confirmed, “or other marks to indicate the locks were tampered with.”

Moving on to the kitchen, they found the back door shut but unlocked. There was no deadbolt like on the front. Allie watched as Steve knelt and examined the lock.

“Oh yeah. Someone used a flat tip screwdriver or something like that to jimmy the lock. You need a new one installed on this door.” He stood. “You need a deadbolt as well. Makes their work more difficult. We can call someone tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She chewed at her lip. “I guess my grandparents never thought about it either. Seems strange in retrospect.”

All this time, she’d felt so secure with her triple deadbolts on the front door. She should have had this door secured properly ages ago.

“You never had any reason to worry about it.”

She nodded. Sounded better than just not thinking at all. “I suppose we can rule out the FBI. They’ve already been here. And they had a warrant, so breaking and entering wasn’t necessary.”

Steve chuckled. “No. This, I’m guessing, is either someone looking for something the FBI missed or someone who wants you to be afraid.” He settled his gaze on hers. “Either way, we need to secure this door until we can get a new, proper lock.”

“I have something I think we can use for that.” She rounded up the longest screws she could find and the battery-operated drill driver she’d bought herself when she added shelves to her office.

“That will definitely work as long as you don’t mind my marring the wood.” Steve accepted the items.

“Mar away. I can repair that with a little wood filler and paint.”

“As you wish.” He prepared to secure the door.

“I think I’ll clean up the mess upstairs and call it a night.”

He frowned. “It’s been a strange day. You handling all this okay?”

“Sure.” She backed toward the door. “Thanks again for everything. Really. You’ve done so much.”

He smiled, making her heart react. “No problem. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

What she didn’t tell him was that she was totally exhausted with all of it.

She had realized she didn’t know very much about her parents and the final year of their lives.

But now she was certain she had no idea what really happened to them either.

What little she did know from that time didn’t feel like the truth anymore.

But she was certain her grandparents would never have lied to her.

They couldn’t have known. She refused to even entertain the idea.

Allie wasn’t sure what she actually knew at this point. But she intended to find out.

Upstairs, she started with the closet. Rehanging clothes and tidying shoes and scarves. Her mother’s two favorite handbags went back on their hooks. Every single item made Allie miss these people she’d scarcely known so much more. She missed her grandparents too.

It wasn’t easy being alone. Funny, she hadn’t really noticed so much until now.

This time with Steve and tonight’s dinner with his family had been a stark reminder of what she was missing.

By the time her parents’ belongings were put away, she was dragging. Steve paused at the door. Evidently he’d finished up downstairs. At one point, she’d felt certain she heard him talking. He’d likely had calls to make.

“Need any help?”

“It’s done.” She surveyed the room. She’d put the framed photographs back where they belonged as well as the little trinkets her mother had cherished. Sadly, she only knew these things because her grandmother had told her.

“Did you notice anything missing?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Whatever the intruder was looking for, it obviously wasn’t here.”

As she walked toward the door, she noticed something on the floor just under the edge of the bed. She leaned down and picked it up. It was another photo of the mystery couple. What in the world was it doing on the floor? She turned it over, and their names were written there.

Lucille and Dennis Reger.

Mrs. Talbert and Steve’s mother had been right.

Allie studied the photograph. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one.” She passed it to Steve. “My grandmother was very meticulous with photos. She kept them all in albums or frames. None were ever loose like this.”

As Steve examined the photograph, a thought occurred to Allie. “Maybe,” she suggested, “the intruder didn’t break in to take anything. Maybe to leave something.”

“A clue he thought you might need.”

Allie nodded slowly, her attention fixed on the couple in the photograph. “Maybe he thinks we need a little help.”

“Or he’s playing with us,” Steve countered.

The kind of playing, Allie realized, that got people killed.