I knew because I had seen the same badge on the annual municipal safety reports stacked in the library basement.
I called Erin and asked her to keep Paige away from my house until I called again.
She heard the strain in my voice and did not argue.
Then I called the library director, told her I needed the day off, and placed the blue folder in a clean cardboard box.
I didn’t want to carry it around the neighborhood.
I also didn’t want it sitting unattended in my garage.
At nine thirty, Officer Ortiz returned with a plainclothes investigator named David Munroe.
He listened while I described the attack, the van, and the papers.
He did not promise that the old case would be reopened.
He asked whether I had handled the folder before photographing it.
I told him I had.
Munroe wrote that down without comment.
He requested copies of the photographs and security footage.
When he reached Isabel’s unfinished statement, he stopped taking notes.
Isabel Wynn had been reported missing four days earlier.
The missing-person report changed the temperature in the room.
Munroe laid Isabel’s statement on the table and asked me not to contact anyone whose name appeared in the folder.
It was reasonable advice, which meant I disliked it immediately.
I wanted to call Lorraine’s daughter, the fire victims’ families, and every retired dispatcher in the county.
Instead I sat across from him and answered the same questions three different ways.
Had Lorraine ever given me a document before?
No.
Had I known Isabel Wynn?
No.
Had I seen the blue folder before that morning?
No.
Did I know why Lorraine might choose my house rather than a police station?
I thought about the library basement, where the county’s older emergency reports were preserved on microfilm.
I told Munroe that Lorraine knew my job, but that I did not have special access to police evidence.
He nodded and looked at the folder’s label again.
RETURN TO THE NIGHT SHIFT.
He said the phrase sounded like a workplace instruction rather than a warning.
I remembered my father teaching me to fix a washing machine by identifying what a part was supposed to do before deciding why it had failed.
The same approach helped me notice one detail everyone had passed over.
The folder’s paper edges were dusty, but the shoelace binding it was brand-new.
Someone had prepared it very recently.
