Thank you, my faithful readers, for the lovely reviews :) And I'm sorry about the cliffhanger (but not really...)

Chapter 12

John didn't bother to let Odin off the lead and instead decided to take the dog with him straight to Clara Oswald's house. It was a longer walk than he had intended, but Odin didn't seem to mind as they headed across the fields until Clara's house came into view. Even though it looked quiet and normal from the outside, as far as he could tell in the twilight, John couldn't help but worry about what he was going to find once he stepped inside. He knocked impatiently and even tried the door handle, only to find that it was locked from the inside. He knocked again.

"Miss Oswald?!" John shouted through the door. "It's DI John Smith. Please, open up!"

"I'm coming! Stop trying to batter the door in!"

She sounded annoyed and John heard the lock click before the door swung open, revealing Clara Oswald not only sounding but also looking disgruntled. He couldn't really hold it against her after the events of the previous week.

"I told the police it wasn't an emergency," she told him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Nothing was stolen."

"I know," John replied for the lack of anything else to say. "The station called to let me know, and asked if I could have a look because I live around the corner. Can I come in?"

She hesitated for a moment and eventually nodded. When John attempted to tie Odin to the front door, however, Clara interrupted him. "You're not going to leave him out here, are you?"

John looked up, confused as to what she was talking about, yet Clara merely rolled her eyes.

"Bring the dog inside," she told him. "I think I have a few treats somewhere."

There was little else he could do, so John gave the lead a brief tug and Odin followed him into the house where the signs of the break-in Clara had mentioned instantly became more apparent. The first time he had been to her home, he had noticed how cosy and neat it was and now, even though she seemed to have cleaned up already, the chaos the burglar had created was still visible in the opened drawers and scattered objects. Once he stepped through to the living room, he also noticed something else. The redhead, Clara's friend, who had visited the day they had found the body.

"Good evening," John greeted her formally. "I'm Detective Inspector John Smith."

The other woman smiled at him and his gaze trailed to the stack of papers she was holding in her arms. She was obviously helping Clara with the clearing up.

"We know who you are," the woman chuckled. "And I'm Amy Williams, Clara's friend."

He nodded and let his eyes wander around the room until they came to rest on Clara once again. To his relief, he noticed that she seemed unharmed except for maybe the fright the break-in had given her – hence the presence of Amy Williams. "So, um," John began and averted his eyes again. Somehow, he often found it difficult to look at people while he was trying to be nice. "How are you feeling?"

Clara shrugged. "I'm fine. Nothing happened to me if that's what you're asking. The burglar had already left when I got back after work."

Again, John felt a lot of sympathy for Clara and her recent struggles. The dead woman that looked just like her, having to come to the police station to view the Jane Doe, the DNA test and now this. But it couldn't be connected, could it? The burglary seemed like such a random incident that could have happened to anyone, but it had happened to Clara Oswald who was now once again at the centre of an investigation. Was this really a mere coincidence?

"Was anything taken?" he wanted to know. "I mean, I can see you're looking through your belongings, but have you noticed anything missing yet? Anything important? Money? Valuables?"

When John raised his head to examine her reaction, he saw Clara's eyes wander towards a cabinet for such a brief instant that at first, he wasn't even sure whether he had imagined it. Whatever the cabinet was, it was probably where Clara kept her most important documents.

"No, nothing was taken as far as I can see," she replied eventually and for a moment, John wasn't even sure she was telling him the truth. But why would she lie about it? If something was taken, she would surely want it back. "I mean, we haven't looked through everything, but the important stuff is still here."

Suddenly, Clara seemed to remember something and she turned around to open one of the few cupboards that were actually closed and when she went down on her knees afterwards, Odin seemed to smell what she was up to. The dog crossed the room and ate the treat straight out of Clara's hands. "I keep some to make friends with the dogs who walk past my house," she explained and by the look of it, it worked on Odin. The dog was wagging his tail and licking the remaining crumbs from Clara's palms.

"A team will probably come by tomorrow to see if they can get prints off the surfaces and door handles," John explained. "You and your friend should try not to touch them."

"Does this have something to do with the body you found?" Clara wanted to know and her directness took him a little by surprise. He had considered the possibility, but Clara asking about it only seemed to confirm his suspicion. He regretted the fact that he couldn't give her anything more than a maybe.

"I don't know," John admitted.

"What if it was her killer and now they're coming after me?" she asked and John thought that she sounded far too calm to actually believe it.

"We don't know if she was killed," he reminded her. "It could have been an accident and the break-in could be a coincidence. Maybe they were looking for money and when they didn't find any, they left."

"I'm not happy about this," Clara told him, gesturing around the room. Yes, they had made a mess and yes, he worried about her. She was a young woman living on her own in the middle of nowhere.

John uttered a soft laugh. "Honestly, I can't imagine anyone who would be, but-"

"What if the burglar comes back?" she demanded to know. Still, John couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't at all scared about it.

"How did he even get in? The front door? A window?" John asked when he realised he didn't even know the answer to one of the most important questions.

Clara nodded towards the front door. "They picked the lock. I found it ajar when I got home, but you have to tell me," she pressed, her voice urgent. "Do you think they might come back?"

From experience, John knew that burglars were unlikely to strike twice in the same spot, but this wasn't an ordinary case, was it? If it was connected to the dead woman, Clara might be in danger and he would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. When he looked up, he found Clara staring straight at him and once more, he saw anger in her eyes, even hostility. Who was she and what had made her come to Scotland? The questions suddenly popped up in his head and it frustrated him that she might never tell him the answers.

"Can I suggest something?" her friend Amy suddenly threw in. She stepped a little closer and finally put the stack of papers aside. "I can't stay here tonight cause I've got to fly to Edinburgh in the morning, but you should definitely not be on your own."

Amy Williams turned her head towards John. "You said you didn't know whether the burglar might come back and I won't leave Clara alone as long as I know that that could happen. Someone from the police should stay here overnight."

"Okay, that's really not necessary," Clara objected immediately. "I just need a new lock, that's all."

"Well, you're not going to get a new lock tonight. The hardware shop closed an hour ago," her friend argued.

"I agree with her," John found himself saying before he could think better of it. A part of him really didn't want to challenge Clara, but he couldn't help but think that her friend was right. "I'll call the station and have someone post an officer in front of your house."

Clara raised her hands in a surrendering gesture and uttered a laugh. "You two are blowing things completely out of proportion. We have no idea who broke in here and what they wanted. Maybe it was a prank by one of the schoolkids."

"Or maybe it was the person who murdered Jane Doe, as you yourself pointed out," John stated plainly. "I'm not taking that risk. I'll call the station."

"There's no need, is there?" Amy remarked and nodded towards John. "I mean, you're already here."

"Amy, no-" Clara tried to protest before John cut her off.

"Yes," he agreed. "That's an excellent idea."

The look Clara Oswald threw him next could almost be described as deadly and even though she would probably survive the night, he might not. But it was perfect, wasn't it? Clara would be safe and he had a chance to ask her all the questions that have been on his mind for days.

"I won't take no for an answer," John insisted. "I'll stay and keep an eye out for burglars."

For a moment, he thought that Clara would protest further or throw him out, but to his surprise, she merely shrugged in response. "Fine," she hissed. "But I'm warning you. The sofa is terribly uncomfortable."

John figured that it was a fair price to pay for her safety and the chance of finally having a decent conversation with her.