“We’ve been better,” Mo said. “Public Safety Office? So, you’re not a police officer?”

“No, ma’am,” Dr. Grant said kindly. “I’m a licensed social worker, and my department handles incidents called in on the non-emergency line.”

“I have a Taser,” Mom said, pointing to the coffee table. “Just so you know.”

Dr. Grant glanced at her, her smile like a mask. She probably used it to put people at ease while she observed everything around her. She’d already spotted the Taser. “As long as you aren’t planning on zapping me, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Mom said. “But I’m glad I have it. Took y’all a while to get here.”

“I apologize,” Dr. Grant said. “We’ve recently begun defunding the local police department. Several officers have proven themselves to be more of a problem than an asset to the residents here. As such, we’ve cut back the number of officers on the force and diverted funding to programs that better serve the community. My department acts as a buffer between what’s left of the police and the community to ensure everyone’s safety.”

“Well, damn,” Mom said. “Sounds like y’all are ahead of the game out here in the sticks.”

“I’d like to think so,” said Dr. Grant. “No one has lived at this address for a while, so we don’t have anyone on regular patrol this far out. I’ll make sure we add a trained community patrol partner to the route. You have my word.” Her expression turned to one of concern. “Dispatch said you had a prowler?”

“Yes,” said Mo. “Someone was standing in the driveway. They took off when we opened the door.”

“What did this person look like?” Dr. Grant asked.

“I didn’t get a good look at her,” Mo offered. “I saw her through the window, but she looked about my size, around five foot eight, maybe.”

“Briseis saw her,” Mom offered.

Dr. Grant was taking notes on a small pad of paper but stopped abruptly. She didn’t look up but her pen stopped moving. “And what did you see, Briseis?” she asked, eyes still downcast.

“It was dark,” I said. “It was a girl. Maybe. I’m not sure but somebody was definitely out there.” I knew what I’d seen but I found myself holding back on the details.

Dr. Grant took the walkie-talkie from her belt. “I need a community patrol to sweep the outside of 307 Old Post Road.” She holstered it and went to the front door.

“She’s probably not hiding outside, right?” I asked.

“I hope not,” said Mo, glancing at Mom. “For her sake.”

Mom huffed.

A few minutes later, a car marked with a Rhinebeck Public Safety decal pulled up and two people got out. They went to opposite sides of the house with their flashlights drawn, casting long columns of light into the dark. Dr. Grant opened the door as they circled around and came back.