He approached her home slowly, his gaze scanning the structure from end to end. He spotted nothing out of the ordinary. That eased his concern some, but he remained determined to investigate.
The three-story house, which included two floors of living space as well as a full attic, loomed dark and silent above him as he approached it. Gingerly he climbed the three wooden steps onto the back porch.
He stooped forward slightly and peered in through the thick glass of the back door, but it took him a few moments to realize something was askew. The door stood ajar, opened an inch or two. That made him uneasy, and he took a step back, steadying himself with his cane as he pondered this incongruity.
Had she left it open by mistake? Or had someone entered the house after she had gone, leaving the door ajar to make good an escape?
His heart quickened its beat as his mind worked. Something in the heavy silence spooked him, and he nearly turned and fled back to the safety of his own place. Better to call the police and let them handle the matter. They could search the home faster and more effectively than he could.
But he dismissed that idea almost at once. He would not let himself be rattled like a child. He thought of her and pushed at the door.
It hinged open with a faint, elongated squeal. He stayed on the porch for a few moments, his gaze sweeping the gloomy interior. Nothing looked wrong so far as he could see.