The shades on the windows were drawn to keep out the midday heat, and a small package sat on the top front step, looking out of place. Portia followed the tidy brick path to the front door. Before she got there, two identical black-and-white cats fell in line behind her. “How nice,” she murmured as she rang the bell. “Feline escorts.” The door opened immediately and Portia found herself looking up into the eyes of a tall, sturdily built woman with short, carefully trimmed brown hair. “Agent Cahill, I’ve been waiting for you. You’re precisely on time.” Eloise Gorman smiled approvingly. “I feel that promptness is so important, don’t you?” “I do,” Portia agreed and took the meaty hand that her hostess extended. She noted its strength. “Well, come on in. Not you two.” The woman laughed and shoed away the two cats. “Ruth and Esther, you play outside for a while. Go ahead, go…” She closed the door and brought Portia into a small living room that had a sofa, two club chairs, and a fireplace that Portia would have bet a month’s salary had never been used.
