It happened the following night.
We had gone to bed about eleven. I had locked the bedroom door, bolted it. I had fixed the mesh-wire screen over the open window. No one could get in our room without waking us.
It was a clear moonlight night, and the night air was hot. Ben had been busy up to ten-thirty, and now trade had slackened off.
Clair and I lay side by side in the big double bed. I was half asleep when I heard a car drive up. I thought nothing of it, relaxed, began to drift off. Then suddenly I was wide awake, listening. Clair also sat up, looked at me in the dim light, whispered, “What is it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Did you hear anything?”
“I thought I did,” she said. “But I’m not sure.”
We listened. Silence.
“A car came in a minute or so ago,” I whispered. “It hasn’t gone.” I swung my feet to the floor. “I don’t hear Ben around I”
I went to the window. A big Plymouth sedan stood on the driveway. There was no sign of Ben nor the driver.
I waited, frowning.