Page 25 of The Other Lady Vanishes

At least she was no longer pointing her little pistol at him. But the gun was currently lying on top of the big, scarred kitchen table, within reach. That made him uneasy because it was obvious that she had not had a lot of experience with it. She seemed to know the basics but she was not comfortable with the weapon. Guns in the hands of professionals were dangerous enough. In the hands of amateurs they were aneven greater cause for concern because of the possibility that the trigger would get pulled by accident or impulse.

His own gun was also on the table, also close at hand. He’d left the shoulder holster behind on his nightstand. There had not been time to buckle it on after he’d become alarmed by the lights in Adelaide’s cottage.

They had established a cautious truce but were circling each other warily. He knew that Adelaide was not telling him everything but he also sensed that she was not lying to him. Fair enough. She had a right to her secrets. He was keeping a few from her.

All things considered, it had been a very unusual first date.

“I could stay here until morning,” he said.

He realized immediately that the offer had not come out quite the way he had intended.

She tensed. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

He groaned. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

She relaxed a little. A ghost of a smile touched her mouth. “I know. But, really, I’ll be all right. To be honest, I’m starting to wonder if I actually did leave the laundry room window open.”

“You said you thought the shoe rack in your wardrobe had been moved—as if someone had searched the place for valuables.”

“Maybe I was wrong about that, too,” Adelaide said, her tone stark. She shook her head. “Maybe I imagined that it had been moved. I... get a little nervous after dark.”

The possibility that she had let her imagination run away with her common sense disturbed her more than seemed appropriate under the circumstances. After all, she was a woman living alone. She had a right to be extra cautious, especially at night.

He glanced at the gun.

“One question comes to mind,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed a little. “What’s that?”

“If someone did search your house looking for valuables, why didn’t he find the gun?” A thought struck. Now his nerves really were rattled. “Don’t tell me you had it in your handbag all evening.”

“Of course not,” she said.

“I’m relieved to hear that.”

“I keep it under my bed.”

She slept with a gun under the bed. The lady was running from someone; a man, most likely.

“Can you think of any logical reason why someone would break into a house like this but not take anything?” she asked.

She was serious, he realized. She was searching for an explanation for the break-in that would be less frightening than the one she evidently feared.

“There are some very dangerous people in the world,” he said. “It’s not inconceivable that someone broke in here tonight because he believed that you were at home and in bed and, therefore, vulnerable.”

She lowered the mug and stared at him, her eyes widening in surprise. “Do you think someone broke in here tonight because he intended to assault me?”

It struck him as a very odd reaction, especially coming from a woman who lived alone. The possibility that a rapist might have targeted her should have been the first thing that occurred to her. Instead, it seemed to be the very last thing she had considered.

“That kind of crime does happen,” he said, “even in places like Burning Cove.”

“Of course. I should have considered that immediately. I suppose I was more focused on... other possibilities.”

“Such as?”

“Theft, naturally,” she said a little too forcefully.

“But nothing was taken.”

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