“You know what it is.”
She looked at Ryan.
Then back at me. “Are you spying on me?”
Ryan actually laughed. “You’re on our porch.”
Her face reddened. “I was bringing something over.”
“No,” I said. “You were taking something.”
“That’s not what happened.”
I held up the second photo. Then the third.
Her eyes moved between them.
I said, “We have video.”
Silence.
“Three separate deliveries.”
She crossed her arms. “Maybe they were delivered to me.”
“They weren’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they’re addressed to me.”
Her mouth tightened.
I took out the list. “These are the packages that have gone missing or arrived opened in the last three months.”
She stared at it. “You’re blaming me for all of that?”
“I’m asking you to return anything you took.”
“I didn’t take anything.”
“Denise.”
“I said I didn’t.”
Ryan stepped forward. “Then explain the videos.”
“I thought the packages were mine.”
“Three times?”
“I get deliveries too.”
I pulled out my phone. “Okay.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Calling the police.”
That changed everything.
“Wait.”
I stopped.
She looked toward the street.
Then she lowered her voice. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Then give me my things.”
