Page 33 of Secrets Along the Shore

He knew my address? Of course he did. He’d been here before. I needed to get myself under control and my thoughts to stop whirling and regurgitating adrenalin-fueled confusion. I don’t know why I both liked that Reuben was here and was also annoyed by it simultaneously. I wrapped my arms around my chest. I was wearing a T-shirt too, only mine was a normal one boasting an athletic brand, but I wasn’t wearing a bra and I preferred to shield myself.

“I’m fine,” I answered.

“Did you see anyone or anything?”

“I already told the other cops. No. I didn’t see anything.” I recited my anticlimactic encounter a second time, and somehow, even the bedroom door opening seemingly on its own didn’t sound as creepy. That’s the problem with time. It dulls the initial impact. It takes away the senses until it’s a memory. Unless you have something shocking to report, an opening door doesn’t come across as threatening.

“They’re searching your apartment now,” Reuben was telling me. “Obviously they swept it for an intruder, but they want to see if anything is missing or was taken.”

“Nothing is missing or taken.” I knew this because absolutely everything in my place was exactly as it had been when I’d gone to bed. I wandered through my apartment with a cop after they’d cleared my home. A twenty-dollar bill was sitting in plain sight and unmoved on my kitchen table. I didn’t have too much of any value, but if it were a mere robbery, I would have thought they would have at least grabbed my tablet left discarded on the couch. “Nothing was even touched,” I finished.

“You don’t know?—”

“I do know.” I gave Reuben a stubborn glare. “Nothing was taken.”

“Ok.” He acted like he accepted my answer out of respect, even ifhe didn’t believe I was fully cognizant of the facts. “Your doorbell cam? Can we see the footage?”

I handed Reuben my phone, the app already pulled up. “I checked it. There’s nothing. Whoever it was, they didn’t come through the front door.”

“Any idea how they got in?”

“You’re the detective,” I snarked back and then bit my tongue and gave my head a swift shake. “No. I lock all my windows.”

“24-7?” Reuben pressed.

I considered the implication of his question. I didn’t want to live in a cave, with musty air. Circulation was needed, so of course I didn’t keep the windows closed 24-7. “Not all of them. Sometimes they’re open during the day.”

“When you’re away?”

“I—I try to close them all.” But now I couldn’t remember. Which made it worse. And the fact that if Reuben’s implications were right, I’d spent the evening at home with my intruder. He’d slipped through a window during the day while I was gone and hid until I was asleep.

An officer was passing on his way to his squad car. Reuben motioned for him to stop. “Did anyone find anything when you searched the perimeter of the building?”

“Nope,” the cop responded. “Everything was clean.”

“Copy that.” Reuben nodded and the cop continued on his mission. “No snakes. That’s a good thing.”

“You think this was Sophia’s killer?” I drew my chin in and stared at him.

“Maybe. You’ve been helping with the case. I know you’ve been doing your own snooping around.”

“I haven’t been snooping.” I detested the inference that I was a nosy amateur detective seeking relevance in the crime-solving world. No. I was trying to help Sophia.

“Fine. But I advised you not to.” Reuben’s expression was kind, but reprimanding. “We don’t know what this perp’s next move is going to be and you don’t need to be in his cross hairs.”

I wanted to waggle my fingers at Reuben and be all,oooo, look at you throwing around cop words and sounding all important.But I didn’t. Ididn’t need to add sounding juvenile to my list of attributes. Besides, I knew Reuben was stating it because he cared, and I appreciated that. Tonight was just another exclamation point affirming the fact that I didn’t want to ever repeat my past experiences.

“I’m sorry.” I was in earnest when I said it.

His eyes flickered in surprise.

I adjusted my stance on the sidewalk outside my apartment. “I’m just upset.”

“I get it,” he responded with quick assurance.

No, he didn’t. But it was nice of him to try, I guess.

“So, am I safe to go back to bed?” I had no intention of going back to bed. I had no desire to go back into my apartment. It felt like a trap, and if Sophia’s killer had somehow tied me to her investigation or—worse—if the Serpent Killer was back . . . “Never mind. I’ll call Livia.” I took my phone back from Reuben’s hand. He was still holding it after looking at the door cam footage.