It was a dark and stormy night. Ann had been up late working as was her habit. But she’d never come to bed. At 3:30 a.m., her husband climbed the long steps to her study in the silo, but oddly she was not at her desk. All he found was the regular shifting of pictures on her screen saver and a half empty glass of tea. When he clicked the mouse, he saw the page she’d been reading—some postings on her blog. Her ear phones lay on the floor. Everything else looked normal except for the double-hung window in the bathroom. It had never, to his knowledge, been opened. Now cold air swarmed through the bottom half. He peered down into the yard below. Even with the full moon, there was nothing to see but untrammeled snow. John pulled his cell phone from his bathrobe pocket and called 911.
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