Two nights later, I kept the living room lights off while I sat on the couch. Rios and an officer waited upstairs, listening through an earpiece.
At 11:30, the backyard motion light clicked on. Shadows moved along the side path, slow and practiced. The back door handle jiggled, and I heard more movement suggesting someone was up to no good.
Rios’s voice murmured in my ear. “Don’t move.”
On the camera feed, Mrs. Keller appeared in the harsh light, jaw clenched, and with a bag in her hand. Don Harris hovered behind her, eyes darting around nervously.
Sirens erupted so close they rattled the windows.
Lydia stood off to the side, hands twisting, whispering, “Hurry.”
Keller tried the handle again and hissed, “I know this gate doesn’t lock.”
Don tried the gate, bumping it with his shoulder in an attempt to force it open. “She can’t ruin us from the grave,” he snapped.
Then Lydia’s voice shook. “Just jump over and check the back door. We have to get the papers. If they exist, they need to disappear.”
That seemed to be all the evidence we needed. Rios piped up in my earpiece:
“Now.”
Sirens erupted so close they rattled the windows. Flashlights flooded the yard, and officers poured through the gate, shouting commands.
Lydia started crying, mascara streaking.
“Stop right there!!” an officer yelled.
Keller spun around, face pale, and snapped, “This is ridiculous! We were checking on him!”
Don pointed at her instantly. “It was her idea,” he blurted. “She said the letters were dangerous!”
Lydia started crying, mascara streaking. “I’m not even really in on this,” she said. “He was the one who always moved the gate to scare the old lady.”
From the fence line where he’d silently been hiding, Jared stepped into the light. “I told you not to do this. It was way too risky,” he said.
When the cars finally rolled away, the street went dark again.
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