I shoved the teacup away.

The bottom of the cup scraped hard across the wooden table.

Who was living in that house in Tyler today?

I got up and went over to the wall phone hanging beside the refrigerator.

I lifted the receiver and dialed the Tyler area code with a trembling finger.

The line hissed with static, and four long rings sounded through the little earpiece before a man picked up with a loud, irritated hello.

“I’m calling about the house on Oak Creek Drive,” I said, pressing the black plastic tight to my ear.