Harper shook her head. “It was a silhouette, so the features weren’t clear enough to describe. I think the hair was short, but it might have been tied back or something. I mean, I didn’t see long hair, just the figure of someone silhouetted against the curtains, with the light behind her.”
“Her? So it was a woman?” Detective Serrano asked.
“At the time I assumed it was Delilah Mason.”
“But Mason was here in the garden, buried alive. It couldn’t have been her.”
“So it seems.” Harper, ever the good student, felt as thoughshe had disappointed a teacher who had held out hope for her great promise.
“Wait here,” he said, nodding to the young officer, who came to stand by Harper.
Two uniformed officers went to the rear of the house, while the detective pounded on the front door, yelling “Police!” Then he stood back, and on the count of three, two men slammed a large red battering ram into the door with a loud crash.
The historian in Harper was horrified at the sound of the centuries-old wooden door splintering.
She caught herself.A murderer is at large. Keep some perspective, Harper.
Rapid footsteps and muffled shouts emanated from within the dark house as the police raced through. She imagined boots clomping along the old floorboards, clumsy young men knocking over furniture and sending valuable antiques and artwork crashing to the floor. After what seemed like a very long time, Detective Serrano returned.
“Anyone?” she asked.
“Not a soul.” He looked at her thoughtfully, his head cocked. “What’s more, the doors and windows appear to be locked. From the inside. That’s why we had to use the key to get in.”
“You had the key?”
“That’s what we call the battering ram. Works like a key to open doors. Personally, though, I call it the Enforcer.” He shrugged at her blank stare. “Cop humor, I guess. The question is: Are you sure you saw someone inside?”
“Maybe they’re hiding, and you couldn’t find them? Old buildings like this sometimes have hidden rooms, back hallways, that kind of thing. Tariq mentioned a second staircase.”
“Maybe so. A K-9 unit is on its way. If someone’s inside, the dog’ll find them. My question is: How did that door get locked when you were just in there?”
“Good question.”
He stared at her.
“I honestly have no idea,” Harper continued. “There must be someone inside after all.”
“Run this by me again—why did you and your boyfriend go inside the house?”
“Tariq isn’t my boyfriend. We’re old college friends, went to Berkeley together.”
“Good school.”
Harper nodded and said in a weak voice, “Go Bears.”
“You touch anything inside? Do anything, see anything?”
She shook her head. “It was dark and seemed empty.”
“And you were on this ghost tour? Led by Joel Aristide?”
Harper nodded.
“A dark night, an old house, lots of spooky ghost stories…Any chance you thought you saw something that wasn’t there?”
“No,” Harper said flatly.
“You sure?”
