She could feel it. Feel it despite the fact that there were no signs of a struggle and nothing out of place. The longer she stayed, the more convinced she became that she was right. As was her custom, the petite, pleasantly plump housekeeper had let herself into Professor Melinda Grayson’s modern, two-story house with her own key. It was a copy of the master key, awarded to her amid much fanfare. She viewed the key as a status symbol, a testimony to her character. Her employer, Melinda Grayson, did not trust easily, holding the people she dealt with suspect until they proved themselves worthy in her eyes. As someone who cleaned the woman’s house and perforce was given access to every corner of it, she’d been watched with an eagle eye for the better part of two years. At the beginning of Mabel’s third year of service, the renowned, somewhat controversial and eccentric sociology professor dramatically bestowed her with a copy of the house key, making Mabel literally swear that she would never allow anyone else even to hold it, much less use it.
