Page 48

FORTY-FOUR

KYLE JANOWSKI PULLS HIS car into the Bowers’s driveway, the second police vehicle to arrive. He checks the time before he bounces from the car. Coming up on eleven in the morning. The sun has decided to make a cameo appearance, causing him to squint.

Officer Ginny Risely is waiting for him on the driveway. She’s probably sorry that the Bowers family lives in her assigned district.

“Everything okay?” he asks her.

“Everything stable,” she says. “Okay might be a different story.”

“Tell me.” Kyle puts his hands on his hips.

“Normal home-intruder alarm call,” she says. “Hatch and I respond.”

Hatch, meaning Lee Hatcher, her partner.

“We beat the homeowner to the house. Mr. Bowers.”

“ Mr. Bowers,” says Kyle. “David?”

“Right. So we’re first on the scene. The back door’s wide open,” she continues.

The door was left open? That’s odd.

“So we enter, right? An open door like that, we’re gonna go in every time.” She looks at him for approval.

“That’s right, Ginny. Keep going.”

“Well, Mr. Bowers is not far behind us. He walks in, and he’s pissed. Or maybe that’s too harsh. He’s upset that we’re inside. He couldn’t get us out of that house fast enough, Sarge. He didn’t even want us to secure the interior. Most people, y’know, they’re spooked as hell — they want us to do a walk-through and make sure the bad guys aren’t hiding in a closet or something.”

“Right, right.”

Just then, Kyle can hear them coming around from the rear of the house through the backyard — Officer Hatcher and David Bowers.

Ginny hears them, too. She leans in closer to Kyle. “I saw something in there,” she says as Hatch and David come through the gate.

Kyle steels himself. It’s been a long time. It shouldn’t still affect him.

“Kyle, right?” David extends a hand.

“Hey, David. Good to see you.”

“Yeah, good to see you, too. I want to thank your two officers here, getting here so quickly. Totally professional.”

“Sure, sure. Just doing their jobs. Two of our best,” Kyle adds.

David rubs his hands together. “I can probably take it from here. No harm, no foul. No real damage. A little spray paint, some dumb kids.”

Spray paint. Kyle glances at Ginny. He’s getting the same vibe as she did. David seems awfully eager for them to leave. “Well, I’m glad to hear it was nothing serious,” he says. He turns to Ginny. “We have enough for a police report?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Ginny starts.

“Oh, no need for a police report,” says David.

Huh? That doesn’t make sense. “Well, for insurance, if nothing else —”

“Nah, I won’t bother with insurance. To clean up some spray paint? The hike in premiums isn’t worth it. You guys have been great.” David starts to backpedal. “Really, thanks for everything. I can take it from here.”

And with that, David disappears through the backyard.

“Weird, right?” Ginny says to Kyle.

“Very.” Kyle looks at his two officers. “What, did they force entry? That damage alone is worth insurance —”

“If they forced entry, it was a pick,” says Ginny. “No damage.”

“And they spray-painted.”

“Yeah, they spray-painted,” says Hatch. “But what I think? What Ginny and I think?” He looks at Ginny. She nods. “We think he knew the alarm code. We think he picked the lock, disarmed the code. Then he reset it when he left.”

“Why do you think that?” Kyle asks.

Ginny this time. “An alarm’s going off, you know you don’t have much time inside, right? The cops will be coming quickly. And he took the time to write a note in spray paint. That doesn’t seem like something you do if you’re in a hurry to take off.”

“Oh, they wrote a note? They didn’t just spray around?”

“No, they didn’t. It was a note. But here’s the thing, Sarge. He disarms the alarm and leaves a note, spray-paints it on the wall. Right?”

“Okay …”

“Yeah, but then before he leaves, he resets the alarm —but leaves the back door wide open.”

Oh. Right. Kyle’s tracking their thinking now. “He resets the alarm but keeps the door wide open. So after a brief grace period — like thirty seconds, a minute, whatever — that alarm is set, and it will detect the open door and go off again, full bore.”

“Right, and the cops will come. Just like we did.”

“Whoever did this,” says Hatch, “we think he wanted us to come.”

“But … why would he want the cops to come?”

They both raise their shoulders. It doesn’t make sense.

“Okay, well — what does the note say?”

Ginny smirks. She pulls out her phone. “I’ll text you the picture I took,” she says.