With Open Eyes by Iris Johansen, Roy Johansen Page A

guy. He said he would be in touch.”
    “Has he called you?”
    “Hell, no. I called them about a hundred times over the weekend. No one was ever available to take my call, so I left messages. No one called me back.”
    “That would not be unheard of, especially on a weekend and if the police hadn’t made any progress.”
    “Well, I went back to Dale’s house Sunday—last night—to get a few things of mine. I brought some friends with me. My key didn’t work on the front door. The lock had been replaced and the broken door frame had been repaired and painted. So I tried my key on the back door, and it opened. All of Dale’s things were gone, and so were mine.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “It was as if he’d never lived there. And there was no trace of the blood.”
    “It had been cleaned?”
    “More like cleaned out. No furniture, no car, no food in the refrigerator. I mean, it was empty. My friends probably thought I had made the whole thing up. If they hadn’t already met Dale, they might have thought I’d made him up.”
    “Maybe a family member of his cleared it.”
    “He had no family. Anyway, I staked out the police station this morning and waited for Detective Sutker. While I waited, I called him a few times. They kept saying he was busy and that he would call me back. Same old runaround. Finally I spotted him, and I blocked his car with mine.”
    “Not a good idea, Janet.”
    “Yeah, for a second I thought he was going to shoot me. But I wasn’t going to let him get away without answering a few questions.”
    “And did he?”
    “He practically called me a liar.”
    “What?”
    “He said I was being hysterical and that I was exaggerating. That there was no sign of a break-in, and that what little blood may have been on the scene could have been from a carving accident or maybe from a tin-can lid. He said there was nothing unusual about the scene.”
    “What? He said that with a straight face?”
    “Absolutely. He told me that I just needed to get on with my life and get used to the fact that Dale had left me. He said it wasn’t unusual for women to manufacture stories like this when faced with romantic rejection. He said it makes it easier for women to deal with.”
    Kendra bit her lip. “Hmm. Charming guy.”
    “That’s why I came here. I didn’t know what else to do.”
    Kendra leaned closer to her friend. “You know I’m always happy to see you, Janet, but what made you come to me?”
    “I need help. Dale needs help.” Janet glanced around and lowered her voice. “And I’ve heard things about you.”
    “What things?” Kendra asked warily.
    “That you sometimes help the police.”
    She had been afraid this was where Janet was heading. It was a side of her life she didn’t often discuss, even with her friends and family. “And where did you hear this?”
    “From Lynne, our school administrator. I think she speaks to your mother fairly often.”
    Kendra nodded. Her mother. Of course.
    “The teachers at the school still talk about you all the time, and not just because you can see now. You were amazing even when you were just fourteen years old. The first time I met you, you knew that I was wearing glasses, what kind of shoes I was wearing, what I had eaten for breakfast, and that I had spent the previous night with my boyfriend. Even when you were blind, you saw the world more clearly than anyone.”
    Kendra shrugged. “I used what I had.”
    “You used it like no one I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen thousands over the years. And you’re even more amazing now that you have your sight.”
    “I don’t take anything I see for granted, that’s all. After all those years of seeing nothing, I just want to absorb every detail and know what things mean.”
    Janet nodded. “And what details have you used to figure me out today, Kendra?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Don’t play dumb. I’ve known you too long. I could sit here and tell you what I’ve