TESS McGowan wished she had worn different shoes. These pinched and the heels were too tall. Every nerve ending in her body concentrated on not tripping as she walked up the sidewalk, all the while pretending not to notice the eyes that followed her. The movers had stopped unloading as soon as her black Miata pulled into the drive. Boxes were ignored while the men in sweaty blue uniforms stopped to watch her.

She hated the attention and cringed at the possibility of a wolf whistle. Especially in this well-manicured neighborhood where the sanctuarylike silence would make the whistles even more obscene.

It wasn’t the men’s fault. It seemed to be her involuntary reflex to put on a show for them. The annoying habit clung to her from her past, like the scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey.

But that had been a lifetime ago, certainly too many years ago to trip her up now. After all, she was on her way to becoming a successful businesswoman. How could something as harmless as a few indiscreet stares dismantle her poise and make her question her hard-earned respectability? They made her feel like a fraud. By the time she reached the entrance, she wanted to turn and run. Instead, she took a deep breath and knocked on the oak door that had been left half open.

“Come on in,” a woman’s voice called.

Tess found Maggie O’Dell at the panel of blinking lights that made up the house’s new security system.

“Oh, hi, Ms. McGowan. Did we forget to sign some papers?” Maggie only glanced at Tess while she continued to program the device.

“No, there aren’t any more papers. I promise. I knew today was the big move. Just wanted to see how things were going.”

“Take a look around. I’m almost finished with this.”

Tess walked from the foyer into the living room. Sunlight filled the room, but thankfully all the windows were open, a cool breeze replacing the stale air. Tess examined her client out of the corner of her eyes.

Now, this was a woman who deserved to be ogled by men. Tess knew Maggie was close to her own age, somewhere in her early thirties. But Maggie could easily pass for a college student. Dressed in a ratty University of Virginia T-shirt and threadbare jeans, she failed to hide her shapely athletic figure. She had a natural beauty no one could manufacture. Her skin was smooth and creamy. Her short dark hair shone even though it was mussed and tangled. Yet, Tess knew that the men who had stopped in their tracks just moments before to stare at her would not dare do the same to Maggie O’Dell.

Yes, there was something about this woman. It was the way Maggie carried herself, the way she appeared, at times, to be oblivious to the outside world. It was something that invoked—no, demanded—respect. Despite her designer suits and expensive car, Tess would never capture that ability, that power. Yet for all their differences, Tess had felt an immediate kinship. They both seemed so alone.

“Sorry,” Maggie said, finally joining Tess, who had moved to the windows overlooking the backyard. “I’m staying here tonight and I want to make certain the alarm system is up and running.”

“Of course.” Tess nodded and smiled.

Maggie had been more concerned about the security system than the price of any of the houses Tess had shown her. In the beginning, Tess chalked it up to her client’s profession. Of course FBI agents would be more sensitive to security matters than the average home buyer. But Tess had witnessed a glimpse of vulnerability in Maggie’s eyes. She couldn’t help wondering what the confident, independent agent hoped to lock herself away from.

Tess glanced around the room. There were plenty of stacked boxes, but little furniture. She wondered how much Maggie was able to take from the condo she and her husband owned. Tess knew the divorce proceedings were growing messy. Not that her client had shared any of this. In fact, Maggie O’Dell had confided nothing in Tess, other than those necessities required for the business transaction.

It didn’t matter—Tess was used to just the opposite. She certainly didn’t take it personally. Instead, she could relate. It was exactly the way she handled her own life, her own secrets. Yes, the less people knew, the better.

“So, have you met any of your new neighbors?”

“Not yet.” Maggie stared out at the pine trees that lined her property like a fortress. “Only the one you and I met last week.”

“Oh, sure, Rachel…um…I can’t remember her last name. I’m usually very good with names.”

“Endicott,” Maggie supplied without effort.

“She seemed very nice,” Tess added, though what little she had gleaned from the brief introduction made her wonder how Special Agent O’Dell would fit into this neighborhood of doctors, congressmen and their society-conscious wives. She remembered seeing Rachel Endicott out for a jog with her Labrador, dressed in a designer jogging suit, not a blond hair out of place nor a bead of sweat on her brow. And in contrast, here was Agent O’Dell in a stretched-out T-shirt, worn jeans and a pair of Nikes that should have been thrown out ages ago.

“Do you have anyone coming to help you unpack?” Tess asked.

“I really don’t have much,” Maggie said in a way that told Tess there would be no further conversation on the topic.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” Tess suddenly felt awkward and anxious to leave. “I need to finish up the paperwork.”

She extended her hand, and Maggie politely shook it with a strong, firm grip that again took Tess off guard. “If you need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”

“Thanks, Tess, I will.”

But Tess knew she would not.

As she backed her car down the drive she wondered whether Special Agent O’Dell was simply cautious or paranoid, careful or obsessive. At the intersection, she noticed a van parked along the curb, an oddity in this neighborhood where the long driveways afforded plenty of parking space.

The man in dark glasses sat behind the wheel, absorbed in a newspaper. Tess’s first thought was how odd to be reading a paper with sunglasses on, especially with the sun setting behind him. As she drove by, she recognized the logo on the van: Northeastern Bell Telephone. Immediately, she found herself suspicious. Why was the guy so far out of his territory? Then she shrugged and laughed. Perhaps her client’s paranoia was contagious.

She pulled out onto the highway to return to her office. As she glanced back at the stately houses tucked away between huge oaks, dogwoods and armies of pine trees Tess hoped Maggie O’Dell would finally feel safe.