“Well—” Nancy began.
“Do you want the police to tell us to leave the case to professionals?”
“No, but—”
“I know you wouldn’t give up, and neither will I,” Marisa said. “Now, tell me—do you see any signs of forced entry?”
Nancy examined the lock on the front door carefully. “No. And your building has security code entry. It would have been difficult to break in. Does anyone else have a key or know the code?” she asked.
Marisa sat down on the sofa. “Just Devon,” she said. “And my landlord, of course.”
“Is it possible your landlord may have let someone into your apartment?” Nancy asked.
“I doubt it.” Marisa pulled the phone toward her. “But we have been expecting a plumber to work on the pipes. I’ll call my landlord and check.”
She pressed an automatic dial button on her phone, which had large numbers labeled in Braille.
Briefly, Marisa explained to her landlord what had happened. She shook her head as she hung up the phone. “No. I knew he wouldn’t let anyone in without my permission.”
Nancy sighed. “Okay. Next, I want to check your computer.”
Marisa explained to Nancy how the system worked. In the main word-processing directory, Nancy found a file that had been saved that morning. According to the time code, it was a few minutes before Nancy and Marisa had returned to the apartment.
Nancy retrieved the file. As she moved the cursor across the screen, the computer voice read the same chilling message: “I’m watching you, Marisa. Stop playing detective, or your days will be numbered.”
Marisa reached out and turned off the computer without even bothering to exit the program. “I don’t think I’d like to hear that again.”
“I agree with you,” Nancy said. “But we just learned something very interesting. We can now assume that someone got into your apartment, typed the threatening message, taped the voice of the computer reading the words, then substituted the tape for your audiobook. What we don’t know is why someone would go to so much trouble to scare you. Or who it might be. Come to think of it,” she added, “whoever zoomed by us in the sports car just before we came up to your apartment is a good suspect. Anyone making a getaway would be in a hurry, and the intruder must have left just before we got back.”
Marisa bit her lip. “Whoever broke in, it’s obviously someone who doesn’t know me well. Otherwise, he or she would realize that I don’t scare easily.”
“You have a point,” Nancy said. “Marisa—I know you’re determined to keep working on the case, but I hope you’re not planning to stay here by yourself.”
“Of course I am,” Marisa said.
“I don’t mean to frighten you,” Nancy said, “but if someone has access to your building, and says he or she is watching you, it doesn’t seem safe . . .”
“I can take care of myself,” Marisa said firmly. “And Misty’s a great watchdog.”
“All right,” Nancy said. “Will you at least promise to call me tonight and check in?”
Marisa stood up and headed for the kitchen. “Even better—would you like to come to dinner with me and Bess and Casey? We’re going to Café Olé. Devon’s a waiter there, and he’s scheduled to work tonight.”
“I don’t have any plans,” Nancy said, following her. Her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, was busy studying for his midterm exams at Emerson College. Nancy was looking forward to spending time with him after he finished his exams.
In the kitchen, Nancy poured two glasses of cranberry juice as Marisa used a cutting guide and a knife to slice fresh strawberries.
“Wait a minute,” Nancy said. “Did you just say Casey’s coming tonight?”
Marisa rinsed her hands. “Bess is supposed to get her used to behaving in public places, like restaurants. After all, if Casey passes her guide dog training, she’ll be spending a lot of time in malls, restaurants—you name it.”
“Is she housebroken yet?” Nancy asked.
“I hope so.” Marisa laughed. “If not, we may not be welcome at Café Olé ever again.”
Casey sniffed a small patch of grass outside Café Olé that evening as Bess, Nancy, and George watched anxiously. Casey wore a bright yellow vest that identified her as a guide-dog-in-training.
“I’m glad you were able to join us for dinner, George,” Marisa said.
“Me, too. If we ever get to eat dinner.” George looked at Bess. “Bess, she’s not going to go. She just went to the bathroom five minutes ago.”
“She hasn’t had an accident all day, and we’re not about to start in the restaurant. You wouldn’t go either if all these people were staring at you,” Bess said. “You just take your time, Casey.”
Casey took her time, but she did finally satisfy Bess by squatting in the grass for two seconds. The group then entered the restaurant.
A hostess wearing a frilly, flowered dress greeted them. “Hi, Marisa,” she said. “There’s only one table left in Devon’s station, and I saved it for you.”
“Thanks, Ally.” Marisa smiled. “Devon’s a popular waiter,” she told Nancy, Bess, and George. “His tables always fill up quickly.”
“Wow,” Bess said as they were led through the crowded restaurant. “This place is busy.”
Nancy breathed in the rich aroma of spices and coffee. “And it smells great.”
George laughed. “Casey and Misty think so, too.”
Both dogs’ noses twitched, and their tails were in the air. “I can tell when Misty’s paying a little too much attention to her surroundings,” Marisa said. “She walks more slowly.”
Misty settled across Marisa’s feet when they were seated at a table near the kitchen. A busboy brought everyone menus and filled their glasses with water. Casey playfully nipped at his feet.
