A small brass plate fixed beside the doorbell was engraved with the name Vance.

I pushed the little black button next to the plate and heard a chime sound once inside the hallway.

Three seconds later the heavy oak door swung open.

A woman stood in the lighted doorway in a dark green linen apron, with dried yellow flower stems pinned to the front pocket.

Her graying hair was held back with a tortoiseshell comb, and her linen sleeves were neatly rolled to the elbow.

She took in my wool coat, glanced down at the silver pendant lying against my blouse collar, and then lifted her eyes straight to mine.