“Yes, they did,” Beth said. “In fact, Laurie hired Arnie to repaint their bathroom, and David hired him to pressure-wash the brick.”
“He knows how to do a lot of handy stuff,” I said, trying not to sound envious.
“Hey,” said Robin mildly. “I know how to change a lightbulb.”
I smiled at him. “You’ll do,” I said. “Do you two know his assistant? He made us pretty anxious, and we asked Arnie not to let him return to the house.”
The Finstermeyers looked at each other, astonished.
Beth said, “I don’t remember the guy. I remember Arnie had an assistant, but as far as picturing him … I’m really sorry you were worried.”
George said, “If we’ve steered you wrong, we did it in good faith. We’ve been happy with our system, and Arnie needed the job.…”
We let them know we did not blame them, at all, for anything. When we were back in the car, Sophie looking sleepy in her car seat, I looked forward to going into our quiet house and throwing some supper together and then (maybe) reading. Or (maybe) having some adult time with Robin. Or both.
When we were home, and Sophie and all her baby paraphernalia were unloaded, I unlocked the front door and went inside. Robin, carrying the baby, was right behind me.
The minute I stepped inside I knew something was wrong. I came to an abrupt stop. “Back up, Robin,” I said. “Get out of the house.”
“What?”
“Someone’s broken in.”
He didn’t say “Are you sure?” or push past me to see for himself, and that was another thing I loved about Robin. He returned to the car, got the baby front carrier out and shrugged into it, inserting Sophie in the pouch.
While he did this, I called the police. The first thing the dispatcher said was, “Get out of the house and don’t go back in.” I assured her we wouldn’t.
We waited in the driveway. I was very anxious … and very angry. Our lives—and more importantly, our baby’s life—had become unpredictable and laced with danger. This had to stop.
I hadn’t met the patrolman who answered the call. He was a very handsome young man of Asian heritage. (Of course I only noticed his good looks in passing, since I was a married woman.)
He was quickly joined by Cathy Trumble, in her unmarked car.
I was very surprised to see Cathy back on duty. Surely she ought to be taking a leave of absence or something?
“You’re the homeowners?” the patrolman said.
I nodded.
“Is there any other family member inside the house?”
“My brother lives with us, but he’s gone.”
“Pets?”
“They have a cat,” Cathy said shortly. “Let’s go in. Roe, you all get behind the car, at least. It would be better if you got farther away.” Cathy looked very tense. It was only when they both drew their guns that I realized the gravity of the situation. There really was a chance the intruder was still in the house.
Not more gunfire, I thought. Please, no.
Robin and I retreated to the Cohens’ front yard. Robin had one arm wrapped about Sophie in the carrier, and the other arm he wrapped around me. “How upset would you be if we moved somewhere else?”
I thought Robin was joking at first.
But he meant it.
Chapter Twenty
I had no ready answer for him, but sooner or later I’d have to respond. Right now I had enough trouble on my plate without making a life-changing decision … while the police were actually in our house with guns drawn.
The Herman sisters came out in the front yard, with Chaka on a leash, and the Cohens joined us, minus Lulu … though she could be heard making a racket in their house.
Deborah was clearly terrified, but Jonathan was angry. “I don’t know what’s going on in your house, Robin, but this should not be happening in our neighborhood. Everything was quiet until you moved in.”
Robin took a deep breath. He’s not a guy who loses his temper easily, but he was right on the brink. “Our house got broken into, Jonathan.” (He said the name the same way he’d say “asshole.”) “I don’t think that we’re responsible for that. And this happened in daylight. I don’t suppose, with all your watching out windows and telling police you’d seen the wrong person, you happened to actually notice a criminal breaking into our house?”
I looked in the other direction, because I didn’t want to see Jonathan’s face. Or Deborah’s. Unsurprisingly, the Cohens stomped back into their house trailing anger like crepe-paper streamers.
As Lena and Peggy joined us, Lena said, “It’s hard to imagine a robbery in broad daylight on a middle-class street like this, right?”
“Yes,” I said glumly. “It certainly is.” I knew it could not be a mistake that this mysterious incident had happened right after the terrible events of the previous week.
“I’m so sorry,” Peggy said. Chaka looked up at her, perhaps hearing the distress in her voice.
“Peggy, we weren’t there and we’re unhurt,” Robin said. “We’re okay.”
It was far from okay, but we had not been attacked or injured, and that was enough. Just then Josh brought Phillip home. I could see them both gaping at the open door of the house, the two cars parked askew in front, and our little cluster in the Cohens’ yard.
Phillip jumped out and hurried over to us while Josh waited in the car, peering out anxiously.
“What’s up?” Phillip said. His eyes went from me to the baby to Robin, assuring himself that we were all well.
“We came home to find the house had been entered,” Robin said. “Roe, is there a big mess?” He’d just thought of his office, and all our books, and the computer with his work in progress. Who wouldn’t?
“Not too bad,” I said, untruthfully.
By the time Cathy and the new patrolman came out of the house, guns holstered (whew), I felt we’d been standing outside an hour. My phone told me it had been seven minutes.
“It’s clear. You want to come have a look-see? Tell us if you notice anything missing,” Cathy said. Clearly, Cathy was not going to talk about our shared ordeal in the hospital parking lot. And given the circumstances, I couldn’t think of anything tactful to say. Time to keep my mouth shut.
Now that New Guy was closer, I saw that his nameplate read “Dan.” I remembered that a Sadie Dan had been valedictorian three years ago at Lawrenceton High. Probably a sister.
Officer Dan began walking around the house, looking for signs of … well, I didn’t know what he was looking for.
We followed Cathy into the house. As I’d seen when I’d first opened the door, the living room was a wreck. The couch cushions were on the floor, the kitchen drawers were open and their contents strewn around.
But they weren’t ripped up. Whatever the searcher had been looking for, it hadn’t been something he (or she) suspected would be concealed in some elaborate fashion.
Phillip went directly to his room, and returned within two minutes. “No problem in there,” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.
Robin lit out for his office, with Sophie necessarily along for the ride.
He, too, was happy to report that his office had been left pristine.