“Do you think this is some kind of stalking situation?” I ask.
“I don’t know. She’s … I don’t know … she’s got that sexy librarian shit going on, you know?” Looking uncomfortable, which is unusual for Glock, he shrugs. “If she’s caught the attention of some nutcase … that kind of obsession can be a powerful motivator.”
It’s an angle worth looking into. “I’ll talk to her.” I motion toward the place on the path where I found the footprints. “Will you keep an eye on the scene until I can get a CSU out here?”
“I’m on it.”
“And tell him to bag that damn branch, will you?”
CHAPTER 18
Glock’s take on Mattie troubles me all the way back to the house. I arrive to find a sheriff’s cruiser parked in the driveway, lights flashing. I cross through the yard where I chased the prowler just minutes before and take the sidewalk to the back porch. I’m reaching for the knob when I notice the broken pane. Pulling my mini Maglite from my belt, I shine the beam on the door to find that the pane nearest the knob has been shattered. Most of the glass fell inward, telling me it was smashed from the outside. There’s no blood, which means we won’t be able to collect DNA. If we’re lucky, we might be able to pick up some latents.
Pulling a single glove from a compartment on my belt, I use it to open the door and enter. I find Mattie and a young deputy sheriff in the kitchen. An overhead natural gas fixture pours light over the table where a loaf of bread is wrapped in foil. The deputy stands at the doorway between the kitchen and living room. I nod at him, then turn my attention to Mattie. She’s standing at the sink, looking shaken and disheveled. She’s thrown a black sweater over her nightshirt, probably due to modesty rather than the chilly night. Even in the thin light, I see her hands shaking.
“Is everyone all right?” I ask.
The deputy nods. “Everyone’s fine.”
“David, too,” Mattie says. “I checked him first thing. He’s still sleeping.”
“Good.” I turn my attention to the deputy. “Was that glass broken when you arrived?”
He nods. “The door was standing open, too,” he tells me. “He hadn’t gotten inside yet, though.”
I look at Mattie. “Did you see him?”
“No.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“Something woke me,” she says. “The glass breaking, I think. I ran downstairs and found the door open. But there was no one there.”
“Was the door locked?”
“Yes. Since … all of this happened, I took your advice and began locking up at night.” She wraps her arms around herself. “I must have scared him off.”
“I did,” I tell her.
She tosses me a quizzical look.
“I was outside, keeping an eye on things. He came out of the woods, crossed the pasture, and went right to the back door. I confronted him on the back porch and he ran.” Even as I say the words, my imagination takes me through all the things that might have happened if I hadn’t decided to watch the place tonight.…
“Do you use the path in the woods?” I ask.
She nods. “Paul and the children used it sometimes when they would walk back there to fish or swim.”
“Does anyone else know about it?”
“We’re the only ones who use the path, Katie. It’s on our property. No one else even knows about it.”
“Someone does,” I tell her.
Craning her head, she moves closer as if to get a better look at my face. She puts her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Katie. You’re hurt.”
“Looks like you took one for the team,” the deputy says. “Do you want me to call an ambulance or drop you at the hospital?”
“I’m okay,” I tell him. “Looks worse than it is, I think.”
Mattie turns to the kerosene-powered refrigerator. “Let me make you a cold pack at least.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her.
“It’s not okay. None of this is okay.” She opens the freezer door and begins rummaging around inside. “You could have been seriously injured.”
The deputy catches my gaze. “I’m going to take a look around, Chief. You okay in here?”
I give him a nod and he leaves the room.
For several seconds it’s so quiet I can hear the tick of the clock on the wall. The hiss of the gas in the light fixture overhead. Mattie turns to me, a frozen bag of peas in her hand.
“You sure you’re all right?” I ask.
“Silly of you to ask me that when you’re standing there bleeding.” She wraps the bag in a dish towel and shoves it at me.
Obediently, I press it to my cheek. “Thanks.”
“Katie, I don’t understand what’s happening.” When she raises her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, I see it shaking. “Why would someone try to break into our home? What does he want?”
I motion to the table. “Let’s sit, Mattie.”