Lisa smiled. She liked Dillard. He struck her as a protective, capable man. “It does. Thanks.”

Together they found Jeff, then Dillard led them through the house, room by room, explaining the system. They were installing sensors on every exterior door, every window, and the garage, which would alert the alarm system to unwanted entry. Motion detectors with infrared technology were also being installed to distinguish body heat and the movement of a prowler or intruder. The surveillance system involved having dome and bullet cameras strategically placed in every room and covering all exterior points outside the house, leaving no blind spots. The camera feed could be viewed on their TV or any portable device. All of it was networked through the master control panel to sound an alarm.

“Would’ve been nice to have this when we moved in,” Jeff said.

“Can’t turn back the clock,” Dillard said. “I understand from Cruz and Reddick that you don’t have a gun. I could help you if you’re considering getting one now for protection?”

“No. Thank you, no,” Lisa said. “We don’t like guns.”

“Even now?”

“Yes. Jeff’s father was killed in an accident while hunting with his friend when Jeff was a child.”

“I see.”

“My mother never recovered from it,” Jeff said. “It destroyed us. I don’t want to have anything to do with guns.”

Dillard nodded his understanding.

“So you’re a retired detective,” Lisa said. “Do you have a gun?”

“I do. I have a concealed-weapons permit.”

“Were you with police here in Miami? I detect a bit of an accent…”

Dillard smiled. “NYPD. Five years as a beat cop, twenty as detective. Dealt with everything. Homicides, robberies, drugs, organized crime. Handled cases in all five boroughs. Retired ten years ago. Moved down here, where I do consulting and contract work, travel to security conferences. It’s a nice life.”

“What do you consult on?” Jeff asked.

“Everything. Lately it’s been cybercrime, investigative techniques, how to cultivate CIs.”

“CIs?”

“Criminal or confidential informants—intel, sources, that sort of thing.”

“Guess you’re still in the mix,” Jeff said.

“I am.”

“Are you married, Roland?” Lisa asked.

“Happily. To the same woman for thirty-five years.”

“That’s nice. Do you have kids?”

“No, no children. You?”

“Not yet, but soon, we hope,” Lisa said.

The crew had worked for nearly two hours when Jeff’s boss called to see how the Taylors were doing and to let Jeff know that he’d managed to push back the South American presentation by a few days. After the call, Jeff retreated to his office to do some work on it.

A little over an hour later, the installation was complete.