I headed home from the office through the grey afternoon drizzle, taking a circuitous route and keeping a close eye on my rear vision mirror. I saw nothing suspicious, but couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
I drove down the driveway, parked the car in the garage and went into the house, bringing my overnight bag with me. It had been four days since I'd been home; last night I'd slept at a hotel in the city, not wanting to spend the night with Lindsay or alone in the house if she was out with Hugh. It was like a mausoleum in its empty silence. With its five large bedrooms, three bathrooms and expansive indoor and outdoor living areas, it was too big for the two of us. We'd bought it to be a family home; now its lifelessness mocked me.
In the kitchen the only signs of life were a
