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and the landscaping designed to look appealing even when covered with snow.
    â€œEven so,” he said. He can be the most stubborn person in the world sometimes, despite some serious competition from my relatives. “Must be four hundred thousand minimum for this baby. Echo Drive, two minutes to downtown. Are you kidding, half a million. Did this Benning bankroll this?”
    I jabbed the doorbell. “Lindsay Grace was a hotshot financial analyst, a high flyer, when she hooked up with Ralph Benning.”
    â€œSo not stupid.”
    â€œNo, that's the tragedy. She's a bright woman who fell into the wrong relationship.”
    Merv snorted. “How smart could she be if she teamed up with this character? Didn't he serve time for spousal assault?”
    I tried again. The bell pealed loud enough for us to hear it outside. It couldn't be missed inside the house. “About as smart as the other women he was with. His wife taught high school physics. Not any more, of course. Her face isn't easy for people to feel comfortable with. And his other women have been smart and assured.” I gave the bell one final vicious poke.
    Merv shook his head. “Makes you wonder.”
    It sure did. I took a deep breath. “Time to go in.”
    â€œNo way. You won't catch me breaking and entering. I have my pension to think of.”
    â€œActually, I thought I'd use the keys.”
    I unlocked the Yale and the deadbolt and inched the door open. I had thirty seconds to get the jump on Lindsay's alarm system. I punched in the code and felt a flush of relief. Merv and I stepped into the foyer and stamped our boots on the marble floor. I stopped long enough to reset the alarm, then called out. “Lindsay?” I thought I heard a small noise from upstairs. “You hear that?”
    Merv tilted his head. “Music.”
    I slipped out of my icy boots. I'd kept my mind off my frozen feet on the ride over. Merv ditched his size thirteens. I stepped into the living room. One small benefit from Alvin's close call: not even Benning could be in two places at one time.
    So why had I been so frantic? Because, Benning, as the police now knew, appeared to be able to breeze through walls.
    â€œHe can't find her here,” I said, trying to convince myself.
    â€œI don't see why not.” Merv stepped up right behind me. “How long has she lived here?”
    â€œSince September. But she was discreet. No one knows. Unlisted phone number.”
    As we checked the living room, Merv said, “If the guy has any kind of connections, he could tap into the hydro service or find the address on her driver's licence through MOT.”
    I knew that too.
    Merv seemed impressed by several bronze sculptures, the rather nice abstracts on the wall and the large arrangement of fresh and fragrant lilies as we passed through the dining area. My sisters would approve. The only whiff in my dining area was from my running shoes.
    The kitchen was empty too. On the counter was a plate with a half-eaten slice of toast. A cup with cold coffee. The radio was tuned to CBC's Radio One. I touched the espresso maker on the granite counter. Still lukewarm. So Lindsay had been home that morning, and chances were she'd been alone.
    I took a deep breath and retraced my steps. I hesitated at the base of the stairs then hurled myself up. Wimpiness was never one of my problems. But if you've ever stumbled over a dead body, you don't feel the same about closed doors.
    â€œLindsay?” I called out, in case she was afraid of Benning creeping up the stairs. “It's Camilla and a friend. We want to make sure you're all right.”
    Upstairs the door to the guestroom stood open, as did the door to the master suite. The bed had been slept in, but the elegant pewter-coloured bedding was merely folded back, no careless jumble of sheets for Lindsay. No sign of a struggle. No blood.
    From behind the closed door, we could hear water running. And another