Page 21

Dinah

“Okay, now, that’s the day you’re looking for, right there.

” The homeowner is a skinny Ukrainian woman with hoop earrings and a large mole on her cheek.

She bends over my right shoulder, her long fingernail tapping on the tablet’s screen.

“You can watch it at four-times speed, but that’s as fast as you can go.

If you want to record anything, just use the—”

“I’m familiar with the software.” I cut her off, hoping she’ll take the hint and step back. She doesn’t, and I clear my throat. “This could take me a while. Do you mind getting me some ice water? Or ideally, a tea or coffee?”

“Oh, sure.” She pats my shoulder and scoots around the square dining table and into the galley kitchen.

Alone with the tablet, I quickly skip to the time I need and watch the left corner of the screen, where half of Reese’s driveway and her front door are visible.

Three automobiles pass by, and the camera doesn’t catch the tags but does clearly identify the vehicles.

The second one causes my breath to hitch, and I pause the video and zoom in on the driver’s-side window.

There’s a reflection and I fast-forward, my back hunched, eyes tight on the screen.

Ten minutes after the cars pass, one of the three returns. Eight minutes after that, the second.

I take photos of both cars with my phone, then fast-forward through the clip, scanning the street to see if there’s a dog walker, a late-night jogger ... anyone.

The street and sidewalk are empty. I glance toward the kitchen, then delete the clips.

Going into the app settings, I locate the storage section and check the video-overwrite schedule.

It is set to Never, so I quickly change it to a twenty-four-hour overwrite.

By this time tomorrow, the entire day and the rest of the system’s history will be gone.

“Anything?” The homeowner returns, a ceramic orange teacup in hand. On the front is a cat with a Cheshire grin. It’s probably celebrating an allergy attack earned. As if on cue, my airways constrict further.

“Nothing.” I tuck my phone into my pocket and rise to my feet. “But thank you for your time. Did you hear anything strange on Thursday morning? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“Nothing. What happened? Something with Reese?”

“We’re trying to figure that out now. We don’t have any evidence of foul play; we’re just being diligent.”

She nods, her expression grave. “Well, if I think of something, I’ll call in and let you know. Here’s the tea.”

“I’m sorry, I just saw the time and have to run. But here’s my card, if you think of something.” I slide a business card from my wallet and hold it out to her. “My cell is on there. You can call anytime.”

I let myself out and, once on the sidewalk, take a deep breath of air.

Finally, the ability to breathe.

I finish my canvass, but all the other houses are duds.