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he stepped toward the table. He didn’t touch either one, just leaned closer, examining them. Finally he turned to face her. “When did you find them?”
    “Just now. I was upstairs and when I came down the door was open. I looked through the rooms, but I didn’t find anyone. When I came back through here I found the picture and saw the note. But it wasn’t there when I came downstairs. I’d have seen it.”
    “So someone left it while you were checking out the rooms.” He touched the garment she held. “What have you got there?”
    Macy looked down at the crumpled fabric clutched tightly in her arms. “A dress. It’s my mother’s. I remembered her wearing it. That’s all I remember, just that she wore it and I was with her.”
    He pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. “All right, let’s back up. You came downstairs and the front door was open. I assume you didn’t leave it ajar, is that right?”
    Macy glanced at the door, feeling again the shock of finding it open. “No, I’ve been keeping it locked. I went upstairs to look around and when I came back it was standing open, but whoever opened it was hiding.”
    The implications sank in. Someone could come and go in this house as he pleased. She could have been attacked, killed the way her mother had been, and no one would have had any idea who had done it. So did her mother’s killer have a key, and had he used it here? Had he used it that night? Or had he rung the doorbell and been invited in? She wondered where her father had been, and why he hadn’t been home with his wife and daughter.
    She had too many questions, and no answers. Nick was talking, and she had missed it. “What? I didn’t catch that.”
    He stared at her. “Are you all right?”
    “Of course I’m not all right. I have enough trouble staying here without someone being able to come and go without my knowledge. How would you like that?”
    “I wouldn’t.” He pulled out his cell phone. “And we’re going to do something about it right now. Let’s get your locks changed and the alarm fixed. You can’t stay here if someone can get in anytime they want to.”
    Macy zeroed in on what he had said. “Get the alarm fixed? I’d forgotten you said my grandmother Lassiter had an alarm but it wasn’t working. What’s wrong with it?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know anything about alarms, don’t have any idea how the things work, but the guy who was trying to break in back then did something to it. I’ll get Joe out here and he’ll make sure it’s fixed and show you how to use it.”
    Macy considered this for about one second. “Get him here. I can’t spend the night in this house the way it is now.”
    She had slept here thinking she was safe while someone could have unlocked the door and crept up the stairs to murder her in her bed. She shivered, suddenly chilled. That phone call. Could the person who had left the picture be the same one who had made the threatening call? What could have stopped him from sneaking up the stairs last night and killing her the way someone had killed her mother?
    * * *
    Nick made his call, and after he checked out the house to make sure it was clear he called the station and let them know what was going on. Then they waited in the kitchen for the locksmith to arrive.
    Macy poured the last of the Pepsi, and they sat talking quietly, or Nick talked. Apparently Macy didn’t feel up to holding a conversation just yet. She still looked vulnerable and he noticed the way her hands trembled.
    Nick felt guilty. He hadn’t meant to scare her like that, should have had more sense. He remembered the way his arms had closed around her, the way she had clung to him. Gradually she relaxed, growing calmer, as if she felt safer now that he was here. Or at least he liked to think she did. But he couldn’t stay. Sooner or later he would leave and she’d be here, alone and vulnerable. Just thinking about it worried him all over again.
    Macy hesitated for a