I can hear it moving, I think. It’s hard to tell with the other noises. A car whooshing by sometimes. Some cat moving through the bushes outside. A neighbor went to the bathroom a few minutes ago. I jerked when I heard the sound of the water moving through the pipes. If I squeeze my eyes shut and focus, I think I can hear it breathing.
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The screen faded in to a view of the dark dripping stain on the first floor ceiling. Water from the burst pipe in the upstairs bathroom had bled through. The camera eye swung down, glided up and over other personnel and bobbed as it followed Agent Gary Takita, who dodged his head from the drops as he marched toward the woman on the sofa. The camera eye veered away to the fireplace mantle for a moment to scan framed pictures of the family that lived there. The glass covers of most had shattered. Only a few had survived the calamity. The camera eye whipped back to Agent Takita’s point of view. He was looking straight ahead at the person who was tagged as the primary witness.
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