Just as I turned into the walk leading up to my trailer, the girl next door appeared. She ran down the steps toward me and halted abruptly. For a change her eyes were not cast down or averted but intent on my face, wide with concern. I had a startlingly clear sense of her anxiety, followed by an apprehension of acute relief.
"You're—you're all right?" she asked breathlessly.
She was staring at the bandage around my head. My coverall concealed the larger bandage extending from my left shoulder to the elbow.
"Banged up a little," I said with forced cheerfulness. "Nothing serious."
"I was afraid—" She caught herself. "When you didn't return home, I—"
I looked at her sharply and she blushed. Her head turned away quickly, but not before I saw the creeping stain of red under her skin. For a moment, I was too astonished to reply. The girl's next words made me forget all about her odd behavior.
"The police were here," she said, her glance brushing mine for only an instant. "They wished to see you."
I felt a quick stab of warning. My gaze narrowed, trying to read her expression. The police had not been satisfied with my story, then. And this girl had backed up my alibi.
"Were they questioning you again—about the other night?" I asked with an attempt at casualness.
"Oh, no!" She shook her head in a terse, firm negative. "They were very nice. They said they would stop back to see you later."