When the officers arrived, Rose led them directly to the backyard. She answered their questions briefly, efficiently. The hatch was still open. They inspected the entrance, exchanged quiet words, then descended with their flashlights drawn. Rose stood back with the couple, watching the process with a firm jaw.
She had expected them to return with confirmation of what she suspected—someone squatting, maybe a drifter. But when the officers emerged, they looked visibly shaken. Moments later, a man followed behind them. Disheveled. Thin. In his thirties. Rose didn’t recognize him, but the young couple next to her did.