T is for Trespass (Kinsey Millhone 20)

“Thank you. Of course.”

“I better scoot. I haven’t had dinner yet and it’s getting late.”

I moved toward the door and I could feel her following at my heels. I glanced back and smiled. “I’ll pop over in the morning on my way to work.”

I didn’t wait for a reply. I gave a casual wave and let myself out the front door. As I trotted down the porch steps, I sensed her standing at the door behind me, watching through the glass. I resisted the urge to check. I took a left on the walk and the minute I was out of her sights, I allowed myself one of those shudders that shakes you from head to toe. I unlocked my apartment and spent a few minutes turning on all the lights to dispel the shadows in the room.

In the morning before I took off for work, I made a second trip next door, determined to talk to Gus. I thought it was odd that I’d found him asleep so early in the evening, but maybe that’s what old men did. I’d played and replayed Solana’s reaction to my question about Gus’s mental state. I hadn’t imagined the flash of paranoia, but I didn’t know where it came from or what it meant. In the meantime, I’d told Melanie I’d check on him and I wasn’t going to let the woman scare me away. I knew she didn’t start work until midafternoon, and I was just as happy at the notion of avoiding her.

I climbed the porch steps and knocked on the door. There was no immediate response so I cupped my hands against the glass and peered inside. There were no lamps turned on in the living room, but it looked like the kitchen light was on. I rapped on the glass and waited, but there was no sign of anyone. I’d borrowed the key Gus had given Henry, but I didn’t think I should take the liberty of letting myself in.

I went around to the back door with its glass upper section. A note had been taped to the inside:

Meals on Wheels Volunteer. Door is unlocked. Please let yourself in.

Mr. Vronsky is hard of hearing and may not respond to your knock.

I tried the knob and sure enough, the door was unlocked. I opened it wide enough to stick my head in. “Mr. Vronsky?”

I glanced at the kitchen counters and the stove top. There was no sign he’d eaten breakfast. I could see a box of dry cereal set out beside a bowl and a spoon. No dishes in the sink. “Mr. Vronsky? Are you here?”

I heard a muffled thumping in the hallway.

“Hell and damnation! Would you quit all that hollering? I’m doing the best I can.”

Within seconds, the querulous Gus Vronsky appeared in the doorway, holding on to a walker for support as he shuffled into the room. He was still in his robe, bent nearly double by his osteoporosis, which left him staring at the floor.

“I hope I didn’t wake you. I wasn’t sure you heard me.”

He tilted his head and peered up at me sideways. His hearing aids were in place, but the left one was askew. “With all the racket you made? I went to the front door, but there was nobody on the porch. I thought it was a prank. Kids making trouble. We used to do that when I was young. Knock on the door and run. I was on my way back to bed when I heard the ruckus in here. What in tarnation do you want?”

“I’m Kinsey. Henry’s tenant…”

“I know who you are! I’m not an imbecile. I can tell you right now I don’t know who’s president so don’t think you can trip me up on that one. Harry Truman was the last decent man in office and he dropped those bombs. Put an end to World War Two, I can tell you that straight off.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. Do you need anything?”

“Need anything? I need my hearing back. I need my health. I need relief from this pain. I fell and put my shoulder out of commission…”

“I know. I was with Henry when he found you that day. I stopped by last night and you were sound asleep.”

“That’s the only privacy I have left. Now there’s this woman comes in, pestering the life out of me. You may know her. Solana something. Says she’s a nurse, but not much of one in my opinion. Not that that counts for much these days. I don’t know where she’s gone off to. She was here earlier.”

“I thought she came on at three o’clock.”

“What time is it now?”

“Eight thirty-five.”

“A.M. or P.M.?”

“Morning. If it were eight thirty-five P.M., it would be dark out.”

“Then I don’t know who it was. I heard someone fumbling around and assumed it was her. Door’s unlocked, it could have been anyone. I’m lucky I wasn’t murdered in my bed.” His gaze shifted. “Who’s that?”