22
The pickup truck was pulling away when Beth walked up to the house. She had fled from the office early, not able to concentrate on her research. Maybe doing some manual labor would clear her head.
She hurried up the steps and found the front door open, but no one appeared to be in the house.
“Gunnar!” she called softly, but there was no reply. She dumped her coat and briefcase on a chair in the front room and went into the kitchen. There was an espresso pot on the stove and the strong smell of coffee; a small jar sat beside the stove. Elisabeth picked it up, unscrewed the lid, and lifted it to her nose to sniff.
Milk? she wondered. The jar was warm. She shook it slightly before she set it down again, then opened the lid of the espresso pot and peered inside. It was empty.
She didn'
