I bundled Clara in her blue knit shawl and walked out through the front hall onto the open porch.

Thomas, a contractor from town, was standing beside his pickup with a heavy wooden toolbox in his right hand.

He’d spent the past two days working on the detached garage and the outside of the house.

“Morning, Major,” Thomas said, coming up toward the porch steps.

“We just finished hanging the new garage door.”

“Does the key turn the deadbolt smoothly?” I asked.

“Smooth as glass,” Thomas said.