“I reported what I saw,” I said.

“The investigators will determine responsibility.”

She seemed disappointed by the absence of a dramatic accusation.

I was beginning to understand that refusing a simple villain-and-hero story could be one of the hardest ways to tell the truth.

The investigation took a turn I had not anticipated when Detective Tran invited me to review a photograph of a metal container recovered during a lawful search of a contractor’s storage unit.

She made clear that she could not show me everything investigators had collected.

She only wanted to establish whether I recognized an object I had personally seen.

The photograph showed a small silver cylinder with a flat lid and a narrow dent near its base.

A strip of adhesive residue marked the side where a label had once been attached.

I looked at it for a long moment.

“It resembles the container Meredith covered with her towel,” I said.

“Can you be more certain?”

“No. I only saw it for a few seconds.”

Tran wrote the answer down without disappointment.

She asked about the dent.

I had not noticed one in the yard.

I told her that too.

Then she placed a second photograph on the table.

It showed the inside of a contractor’s truck, with reflective green tape wound around a tool handle.

I recognized the color but could not identify the person who owned it.

“I don’t want you guessing,” Tran said.

“I’m not going to.”

She told me the contractor had provided a statement and that investigators were comparing it with vehicle records, laboratory results and digital communications.

She did not say whether the account was truthful.

Before I left, I asked about the missing photograph album.

Tran said a search had recovered several personal objects belonging to different households, but she could not yet confirm whether mine was among them.

The information chilled me.

If more homes had been entered, this was no longer an isolated dispute over a signature.

“Are there other victims?” I asked.

“There may be,” she replied.

“We’ll contact anyone whose property we can identify.”

At home, I told Hannah only what Tran had authorized me to share.

She asked whether we should warn our neighbors.

I said the detective was arranging appropriate contact and that spreading incomplete information might hurt the investigation.

Hannah nodded reluctantly.

That evening Savannah called because Evelyn had found muddy footprints behind her cottage after the storm.