At 3:52, an unmarked gray sedan pulled into my driveway, followed by a marked patrol car. Detective Quist got out of the sedan. She was a compact woman in her late forties with close-cropped gray hair and reading glasses pushed up on her head, wearing a navy blazer and running shoes, carrying a laptop bag. From the patrol car came Officer Moreland, the tall young one from the first morning, looking somewhat less relaxed than he had then.
I opened the garage door to let them in.
And at 3:54, before I'd even said hello, Sheryl Kinsella came out of her front door and down her front walk and across the strip of grass between our driveways, at a pace that was not quite a run, wearing her walking tracksuit and her anniversary visor, with Doug Mattingly half a step behind her, saying, "Sheryl. Sheryl, wait."
"Detective," Sheryl said, arriving at the mouth of my garage slightly out of breath. "I'm Sheryl Kinsella. I'm the complainant. And I'm the president of this association."
"I know who you are, Mrs. Kinsella." Quist had set her laptop bag on the workbench and was looking, with what I recognized as genuine professional interest, at the cable I'd run along the baseboard. "We spoke on the phone."
"Then you'll understand why I want to be present for this. He's had that system for over a week. I have a right to know what he's showing you, and I have a right to know whether it's been tampered with, and I would like to hear him explain himself, to my face, for once."
"Sheryl," Doug said, behind her. "Maybe we should let them—"
"I'm not leaving, Doug."
Quist looked at her for a moment over the top of her reading glasses, which she'd pulled down onto her nose. Then she looked at me.
"Mr. Overbeck, this is a private residence, and this is your property and your recording. Whether Mrs. Kinsella stays is up to you. I'll tell you plainly that this isn't how I'd normally do it."
Rhoda had told me to do nothing. Rhoda had not been specific about what to do if the person you'd been told to do nothing about walked into your garage of her own free will and asked to be shown.
I thought about Pippa under the covers at Lydia's house. I thought about Renata not looking at the picture of the owl. I thought about Verna saying she's not a monster.