“I understand completely,” Trevor said, shaking his head with a small, sheepish smile.

“My father-in-law is seventy-three and lives down in Chillicothe.

He gets overly anxious whenever my wife travels.”

I came down the porch steps, the cold air biting straight through my thin wool trousers.

“My daughter was locked out for forty-five minutes without a key,” I told the officer.

“It was twenty-two degrees on that porch.”

Officer Miller looked me over, taking in my uncombed hair, my Munich coat, and the two heavy suitcases sitting by the porch railing.

“Ma’am, are you Mrs.