He reads your house from the sidewalk in ninety seconds. Here is how to make him walk past it.

A month after my husband's funeral, I almost let a man in a reflective vest into my basement.

Calvin passed in 2023. For weeks my front door opened ten times a day, and every time it was somebody from church or the block with a plate of food. Then one weekday afternoon a man in an orange vest with a clipboard knocked and said he had to check the gas line for a leak on the block. I unlatched the storm door. My hand was on the handle.

I had told more than two thousand women not to do exactly that. What stopped me was small. I didn't smell gas, and I couldn't see a truck. I latched the door and told him, through it, that I would call the gas company myself. He walked off down the block faster than a man with a clipboard needs to walk. The gas company had nobody on my street.

If a retired burglary detective can almost open that door, so can any woman who is tired and on her own. That is why the plan has to be written down before the knock comes.

I don't carry a badge anymore. I can't give you legal advice, and I will never tell you to face down a stranger. What I can do is tell you what I saw at those kitchen tables the morning after, and what I had women fix, in the order I told it.

Real pages. Every step, every script, every about-price.

These are real pages from the book, and this is exactly what opens on your phone.

Ten chapters, in the order I walked through a house.

Each chapter starts with the mistake most women alone make, then a case from my years in Brooklyn, how he thinks about it, exactly what to do step by step, and a short checklist.

• How He Picks a House, and How He Picks a Woman: the ninety-second walk-by, what he reads from the street, and the two things he fears · p. 4
• The Front Door: the strike plate, three-inch screws, the deadbolt every time, and talking through a locked door · p. 15
• Windows, Sliders, the Back Door and the Garage: the dowel, window pins that still let you out in a fire, the door you use least, and renters' rules · p. 24
• The Knock at the Door: the utility man, the delivery, the lost dog, "your car was hit" and "police", with the exact words for each · p. 33
• The Phone, the Mail and the Screen: grandparent, bank, Medicare and gift-card scams, the credit freeze, and where to report · p. 43
• Leaving Home and Coming Home: the lived-in look, the walk from the bus stop, and what to do if something has been touched · p. 52
• Parking Lots, the Bank and Errands: being followed from the bank, the flat tire, the note on the car and the purse in the cart · p. 61
• Cash, Jewelry and Papers: where he looks first, boring hiding places, a decoy, and the papers that feed identity theft · p. 71
• The Night Plan: the last walk-through, the noise at two in the morning, the room you go to, and what to tell 911 · p. 81
• Your Block and Your People: the check-in partner, the spare key, the envelope on the fridge, then nine printable checklists · p. 91

Questions, answered straight