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“Now we ring the doorbell.”
They rang it.
Then they stood and waited, listening for sounds, and heard nothing. Doug rang the doorbell again.
“I’m scared,” Saber said.
“Why? We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m still scared.”
Suddenly, there was shuffling, and the door opened to reveal a round-faced, olive-skinned woman with her hair pulled back tight into a bun. She wore a T-shirt, leggings, and long yellow rubber gloves.
“Yes?”
“We’re looking for the owner of the house,” Doug said, and the woman blinked.
“She’s not here.”
She?
“Who is here?”
“Me,” the woman said, looking irritated. “I just work here.”
“Nobody else is here?”
“No,” the woman said. “I’m the only one. I’ve never seen anyone here.”
“Who’s your boss?” Doug asked, and Saber felt a lurching feeling in her belly.
“Who are you?” the woman asked, suddenly suspicious. “How did you get in here?”
“We can go,” Saber said, reaching for Doug’s sleeve.
“You can’t tell me your boss’s name?”
“No. I’m hired through an agency.”
“Have you seen anything strange here?”
“I can’t talk about a client’s house,” the woman said sharply. “I need to get back to work.”
“Nothing you could tell me?”
“No, nothing, please, I have to go.”
She tried to shut the door. Doug stopped it with a firm hand, holding it open.
Then he reached for the woman, and Saber could swear her heart stopped in her chest. He snatched up the rosary she was wearing and looked at it, and the woman seemed to freeze. All three of them exchanged a glance.
“You always wear this when you work?”
“I have to go now,” the woman said again, her voice an octave higher, and this time she successfully slammed the door.
“Huh,” Saber said as they hiked back together to her car, “that was weird.”
“Weird,” he said, “or completely expected. She always wears a rosary, maybe. I’m not Catholic, but I was made to understand once that wearing it as a necklace was frowned upon by some. Maybe she was busy, annoyed, and likes wearing a rosary.”
