“No.”
“Want me to come over?”
“No.”
“Want me to ignore your no?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He paused.
“Your neighbor dropped something at the gate.”
“What?”
“Casserole.”
Nadia stared.
“Which neighbor?”
“The older lady who filmed.”
Nadia looked toward the window.
Mrs. Evelyn Parker.
Two houses down.
Gray-haired.
Seventy, maybe.
The one who had yelled from the porch.
“What casserole?”
“Lasagna.”
“Why do you know?”
“I checked it for explosives.”
Nadia laughed despite herself.
“Thank you for protecting national security from pasta.”
“Always.”
After the call, Nadia opened the front door.
The neighborhood was quieter.
Police tape had been removed.
FBI vehicles gone.
Her lawn still showed dark wet patches.
The garden hose lay exactly where evidence technicians left it.
Evelyn Parker stood at the edge of Nadia’s driveway holding a foil-covered dish.
“You decent?”
Nadia almost smiled.
“Yes.”
Evelyn approached.
“I made lasagna.”
“I heard.”
“FBI checked it?”
“Apparently.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes.
“I’m seventy-four. If I wanted to kill somebody, I wouldn't waste ricotta.”
Nadia laughed.
“Come in.”
They sat at the kitchen island.
Evelyn looked around.
“Still unpacking.”
“Clearly.”
“You need help?”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s what women say when they don't want people touching their boxes.”
Nadia liked her immediately.
Evelyn grew serious.
“I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“For this street.”
Nadia shook her head.
“You didn’t call.”
“No.”
“But I knew Patricia was watching you.”
Nadia looked up.
Evelyn continued:
“She texted the HOA group Friday night.”
“What did she say?”
“That somebody had bought the Nelson house and she didn't recognize the family.”
“Then this morning she asked if anyone knew ‘the woman wandering around the property.’”
Nadia’s jaw tightened.
Evelyn pulled out her phone.
“I saved screenshots.”
She handed it over.
Group chat.
Twenty-three residents.
Patricia:
Does anyone know the woman at 418?
Another resident:
New owner maybe? Moving truck yesterday.
Patricia:
Owner records show a corporate trust. Could be staff.
Someone:
Leave her alone, Patricia.
Patricia:
We have had thefts before. Better safe than sorry.
Nadia scrolled.
Then stopped.
A message from Patricia at 9:07.
Calling police to verify.
Nadia looked toward Evelyn.
“Why ‘staff’?”
Evelyn’s expression became uncomfortable.
“Because the deed shows Brooks Residential Trust.”
Nadia nodded.
She had purchased through a revocable trust for privacy.
Evelyn continued:
“And because Patricia assumes people.”
The unfinished sentence did not need help.
Nadia handed the phone back.