“And where am I supposed to sleep tonight?” I asked.

“Sophie’s got plenty of room at her apartment,” Dean said.

He held out his right palm to me.

“Give me the house keys, Clara.”

“I’m not handing my home over to you,” I said.

Dean came up the porch steps and reached past my shoulder without missing a beat.

While I was packing my handbag on the porch bench, he took the house key right out of the frame, pulling the brass spare off the hook by the door casing.

“I’ll have the lock cylinders changed by three o’clock,” Dean said.