Page 43 of In the Line of Ire

"I'mglad they're not scared."

"I'm notsure it occurred to them yet. I really hope it doesn't."

"I'llcome as soon as I can," I told her. "Don't worry about a thing." Ihopped out of my car with my cellphone in hand and walked over tothe house. The mailbox was empty and the house sat in starkstillness. I stepped onto the porch and peered through the glasspanel door. The hallway was empty, a stack of mail on the narrowconsole table, and the doors into the other rooms all closedexactly as Natalie left them. I stepped off the porch and walkedaround, slipping through the side gate, peeking in all the windows.Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing was left out on thecounter and, thankfully, none of the burners was switchedon.

As I returned to the front of the house, it struck me as odd.If someone were following Natalie's routine, they would know she'dbe home by now. Yet, the creep didn't put the tea kettle on thestove. I gulped. Were they already aware that she wasn't stayingthere? Did that mean the danger followed her? I hoped for Natalie'ssake that she got out of there before she was followed.But what if the creep knew where sheworked?I shivered, appalled at the idea ofher being stalked. My reaction, however, couldn’t stop what wasfast becoming a very real possibility.

Nataliesaid one of the neighboring properties was empty and the other wasoccupied by a man who worked out of town, but she never mentionedwhich property was which. Since I saw a car parked on the drivewayof the neighbor on the left, I walked over there first and knockedon the door.

The manwho answered was bald with startling, blue eyes and a thick beard."Can I help you?" he asked.

"I hopeso. I'm looking into an issue with the property next door," I said,pointing.

"Natalie's place? Is everything okay?"

"I’m notsure. I wonder if you've seen anyone going into the house when shewasn't there?"

Hewrinkled his forehead. "I don't think so but I'm not home veryoften. I'm a pharmaceutical rep so I tend to be on the road alot."

"Did youget home recently?"

"Justyesterday. I have some personal business to take care of so I'll behere for a couple of weeks."

"Wereyou away for very long last time?"

"For twoweeks I was in Florida. The humidity was hell on my beard," hesaid, cracking a smile as he stroked his beard. "Why would someonego into Natalie's house when she wasn't there? Sorry, you didn'tsay who you are."

Iintroduced myself and handed him a business card. I looked behindhim at the packing boxes lining the hallway. "Are you moving out?"I asked.

Heglanced over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah. I got an offer right out ofthe blue on the house. Great timing since I was planning to sell itsoon anyway. My partner and I are going to buy a placetogether."

"Congratulations!"

"Thanks." He glanced over his shoulder again. "I don't wantto rush you but I need to get back to my packing. Is there anythingelse I can help you with?"

"Just acouple more questions if you don't mind. Have you ever seen anyonelingering outside Natalie's house? Maybe watching from a car? Orgoing into her yard?"

He shookhis head. "No, I'm sorry, I haven't, but now that I'm home for awhile, I can keep an eye out. Would that help?"

"Itwould be a big help, thank you. You can call me directly if you seeanything suspicious. Have you ever seen anyone following herdaughters?" I asked, since it occurred to me that the girls couldbe targeted too.

Again,he shook his head. "No, Lucy and Emily are nice kids. I see themwith their friends occasionally but I don't remember seeing anyonefollowing them or doing anything I would callsuspicious."

Ithanked him for his time since it was clear he wasn't around oftenenough to notice much that happened on the street. I walked acrossthe road and knocked on the house opposite Natalie's. The woman whoanswered had seven dachshunds crowding her ankles and when I askedher the same questions, she apologized that she couldn't help. Shespent most of her time in the den at the back of the house, not atthe front. But she said she would try to be more observant forprowlers now. I left her my card, just in case. The homeowners onher right side weren’t home and the left side was occupied by threemen in their twenties. They kept giggling about Girl Scout cookiesand trying to hide the bong behind one of them. I gave up on themquickly before I checked out Natalie's other neighbor. Peekingthrough the undressed windows, I confirmed it was as empty as shesaid.

Getting back into my car, I felt a little disheartened thatnone of her neighbors observed anything useful. I plugged theaddress of the guesthouse into my SatNav and turned my car towardsBedford Hills. Natalie's boss lived in one of the mid-sized homesin the upscale neighborhood, a small mansion by most people’sstandards, and her older model car stood out amongst the shinyMercedes and other sports cars. I parked behind her so that ourcars would not feel ostracized.Have topromote solidarity,I thought as Ihesitated, wondering if I should rap my knuckles on the main dooror walk around the side of the house in search of theguesthouse.

Knockingon the front door won out, mostly because I wanted to get a goodlook at her benevolent boss. The door was opened by a tall,good-looking man with dark hair peppered with gray. He wore rimlessspectacles and a nice suit, although the top button of his shirtwas open and his tie was absent.

"Hi," Isaid, "I'm..."

"LexiGraves, the private investigator?" he finished before I couldintroduce myself. "Hugo Blunt. Natalie told me to expect you. Comein. I'll take you through to the guesthouse."

"Thankyou," I said, stepping into the bright and airy home. "This is abeautiful house," I complimented him as I trailed him through thewide hallway and into a kitchen so large it could have swallowedthe first floor of my home. The marble-countered kitchen probablycost more than last year's salary and was nicely appointed withhigh-end appliances.

"I cooka lot," he said after my jaw dropped in awe. "It's my way ofcalming down after work and besides, I love experimenting with newrecipes. I booked a cooking vacation in France last year. Cookingfor one isn’t the optimum in having fun but I'm not complaining.The guesthouse is on the other side of the pool."

"Youhave a pool too?"

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