She stared at her lap, where her hands were slowly destroying a damp and wadded Kleenex. I noticed the thin gold band on her left ring finger had almost vanished into the flesh around it, as over the years something nailed to a tree becomes absorbed by the bark.

“Mrs. Reitz?” I let the fingertips of my hand brush hers. She looked up. Her face was so pale it blended imperceptibly with her hair.

“My name is Gunther. I’m another policeman. I know you’ve explained what happened, and I know you must be tired, but I was wondering if you could go ouyou cou over it again-just for me.” I paused a moment. “Do you have somewhere you can stay, by the way? A son or daughter, maybe?”

She shook her head. “My daughter doesn’t like me.” Her voice was high and thin-a piano string stretched as tight as it could go.

I called George in from the hallway. “Call Susan Henderson at the Retreat and ask her if Mrs. Reitz can spend a few days there until she gets her feet back on the ground.” I glanced at the Rescue guy. “Okay with you?”

He shrugged.

George nodded and left. Thelma Reitz watched him leave and gave me a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m sorry about your daughter.”

She shook her head. “I lost her a long time ago. I don’t know why. I called her when all this started-I was so frightened-but she told me phone calls like that happen all the time. She said I should be flattered.”

“What were the calls like?”

That brought some color to her face. “I couldn’t repeat them. They were dirty. Very dirty.” She opened her mouth to say more but changed her mind. She was obviously deciding something and finally rose painfully to her feet and crossed the room. She handed me some index cards from a drawer. “He left these too. On my pillow, in my bathroom, in here-he came into my house any time he wanted. I found them every time I got home.”