My clothes were on the carpet in a heap, and the mattress sat off the box spring at an angle, shoved up against the wall.

Nothing was torn.

Everything had been moved and put back wrong.

“The lock wasn’t forced,” Frank said from the doorway.

“I checked that before I touched anything.

A new lock is sixty dollars, and I’m not eating sixty dollars.”

“Who else has a key to this room?”

He held up the ring and shook it.