That suited me fine.
Detective Ruiz obtained authority to attend in an official capacity because of the alleged forged deed, the false occupancy arrangement, and the concerns about exploitation. A uniformed Newport officer would accompany him. Mara had prepared emergency papers for Monday’s hearing and, more immediately, a written demand for all unauthorized occupants to vacate the premises pending fraud review. A locksmith she trusted was on standby in a van three blocks away.
And I?
I put on my navy wool dress, pearl studs, and the silver brooch Winston had given me on our twenty-fifth anniversary—a small etched gull in flight. Not because I am theatrical, but because some battles deserve dignity in dress.
At two-forty, we drove to my house.
The rain had thinned to mist. My garden looked bruised beneath the gray sky. Through the front windows, I could see movement inside—too many people, too much motion, the careless occupation of those who assume the walls are already theirs.
Mara parked behind the patrol car.
Detective Ruiz stepped out and buttoned his coat.
The locksmith waited in his van, reading the paper.
I sat for one second longer than necessary, looking at the front door.
Then I opened the car and got out.
Tiffany herself answered when Detective Ruiz knocked.
She had changed into cream trousers and a cashmere sweater, and for one absurd instant I realized she had dressed to impress potential buyers in my house. Her makeup was flawless. She had put on pearl hoops. She had even lit candles in the entryway, as if stealing a widow’s refuge required ambiance.
Her face changed in layers when she saw who stood on the porch.
First surprise.
Then annoyance.
Then calculation.
Then, when she spotted Ruiz’s badge and Mara’s leather portfolio under her arm, fear.
“Rosalind,” she said, recovering fast enough that another woman might have mistaken it for poise. “What is all this?”
I stepped forward before anyone else could answer.
“My house,” I said, “being returned to me.”
Behind her, voices quieted. Tiffany’s mother appeared in the dining room doorway. One of the teenage boys bounded halfway down the stairs and froze. The baby began fussing somewhere in the living room. The whole scene looked exactly as it had two days earlier, only now the power had shifted and everyone in the room could feel it.
