As if he had said a word to it, it began to rain. Not hard. A fine cold rain out of the dark, so fine she could not see it except where it went slanting through the spotlight beam like static on a television, but she could feel it, needling her face and the backs of her hands. She moved her body to put it between the rain and the box.
"Ma'am," he said, and some of the flatness had gone out of his voice, and what was under it sounded tired. "Here's the thing. You're not under arrest. You understand? But I've got reason to hold you here a reasonable time while I figure this out. That's the law. Now, I can figure it out one of two ways. You can show me the box, I look, it's a watch with your guy's name on it, I say sorry for your trouble and drive you up the hill myself. Or I can have another car come and we go knock on that door at nine Quarry Lane and see if the man who lives there knows who you are. Which is it gonna be?"
"Then knock on the door," Solange said.
He did not move.
"It is two minutes from here," she said. "He is awake. He is always awake. The porch light is on because the other aide left it on for me. You can drive me there and stand on the porch and knock, and he will come to the window, and you can ask him. I'll stand right next to you. I'll stand wherever you want."
Something happened in his face then. She could not have said what it was. It was quick, and it was gone, like a fish turning under the surface of dark water so that for a second you see the pale belly of it, and then nothing, and the water closes. But she saw it, and she knew, standing there in the rain with her hand on the box, that she had been right. He could not do it. Of every door in Wickham Falls, it was the only one this man could not walk up to and knock on. And he was going to stand in the rain and accuse her of burglary rather than knock on it.
"I'll have another car do it," he said, and turned away, and keyed the radio on his shoulder. "Wickham, two-one. What's two-two's status?"
The flat voice came back. "Two-one, two-two is still out on the MVA, Thirty-five and Mount Holly, one party transported, he's got the tow coming and a DWI in the back of his car. Going to be a while. Sergeant's on scene with him. You need him?"
He stood there with his hand on the radio. Solange watched his back. She watched his shoulders, the right one lower than the left.