He arrived at his door step much quicker than he had hoped, but when he went to open his front door, a chill ran down his spine. He learned to trust his instincts, and now they were throwing up a red flag. He slipped into his home and grabbed the shotgun he kept hidden, in a space in the wall, behind a large mirror. He swept through the first floor, then moved quietly up the stares. He checked every room until he reached the master bedroom. The door was slightly cracked open, and the lights were dim inside. He gently pushed the door open with the barrel of his shotgun. He scanned the room and saw no one. He raised an eyebrow when he saw, what looked to be, a woman’s dress laid over the back of the desk chair at the foot of the large bed. A trail of underwear led towards the master bath.