"And then I bought it," I said.
"I was going to take it out," she said. "I was going to take it out this morning. That's all I was doing. I was going to take it out and splice the line and put the dirt back, and on Monday the crew would come and find a meter reading zero with your house shut off, and they'd tell you the leak had fixed itself, or the meter had been faulty, and you'd get a credit, and that would be the end of it." She looked at Pia. "I counted the cars. I watched the van leave. I didn't know you were in there, sweetheart. I swear to God I didn't know."
Pia didn't say anything. She just stood there holding the towel off her neck.
Kasprzak closed her notebook and put it in her pocket. She put her sunglasses in her other pocket. She walked over to Georgine, not fast, and said, "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to set that key down on the ground for me, please."
Georgine looked down at the meter key in her hands as if she'd forgotten it was there. Then she bent, carefully, the way older people bend, and laid it on the gravel beside the pit, parallel to the edge of the concrete.
"Georgine Vandeventer," Kasprzak said, "you're under arrest for tampering with utility equipment and theft of utility services. Turn around and put your hands behind your back for me."
And that was the moment she froze.