As soon as Polly exits the store, Marissa begins riffling through the files in her desk trying to find the paperwork for the alarm system she had installed years ago. She’d completely forgotten about the system until Polly had brought it up.
As with most discussions involving technology, Marissa zoned out while the nice man conducting the installation explained the system to her in mind-numbing detail. She’s never once looked at Coco’s video footage, and she can’t even recall the name of the alarm company. After sifting through files containing her company’s taxes, vendor bills, and inspirational tear sheets, she finally finds the Visionex manual in a thick folder labeled Miscellaneous, which serves as a catchall for all the papers Marissa suspects she will never look at again, but feels as if she should save.
The red-and-black logo seems familiar, and Marissa thinks she recalls seeing the app on her phone, sandwiched between Bennett’s Angry Birds and Minecraft game apps. Sure enough, it’s there, and she easily logs on using their family’s catchall password, the four numbers on a phone’s keypad that correspond to the name of Bennett’s gecko, Sam B （B for “Bishop”）。 The app is surprisingly user-friendly. All she has to do is select the date and scroll through the footage. She starts with Monday at 6:00 P.M.—closing time for the shop—and leans back in her chair as she stares at the image of Coco’s front door.
At 6:02, Polly appeared, her image softened through the glass, and locked the door from the inside. Marissa figures out how to speed up the footage—it’s similar to fast-forwarding a television show—pausing it only when she glimpses movement.
People passed by frequently during that first hour, but as the night wore on, fewer pedestrians crossed the sidewalk in front of Coco.
Then, around 10:00 P.M., after a lone jogger with a headlamp moved in and out of the frame, the foot traffic ceased.
At 11:28 P.M., someone approached the store.
Marissa leans forward in her chair, holding her breath. It was a man—a big guy in a bulky coat with a hat pulled down low.
He walked slowly, holding a folded piece of paper, the white rectangle standing out starkly against the backdrop of his dark jacket.
As the man came closer to the boutique, he glanced up and down the block. Even though Marissa is certain of the visitor’s identity, her body grows warm and perspiration prickles her skin.
The man took a final step toward Coco and bent down to slip the note under the door. It turns out Marissa hadn’t lied to Polly after all; it really was too dark to make out his features.
Marissa exhales the breath she didn’t know she was holding and is about to exit the app when she sees that the figure slowly lifted his head. He stared directly up at the camera, as if he realized he was being watched. For a moment, it appears as if he sees Marissa. She gasps and her phone slips from her damp hands.
She does recognize the person in the video; she walks by him a couple of times a week. The face staring up at her, creased with wrinkles and partially covered by a scruffy salt-and-pepper beard, belongs to Ray, a homeless man who often sits on a bench along Connecticut Avenue, with his rotation of funny cardboard signs: BET YOU A DOLLAR YOU’LL READ THIS; MY EX-WIFE HAD A BETTER LAWYER; and TOO OLD TO MODEL, TOO HONEST TO STEAL.
Ray left the disturbing note?
It makes no sense at all.
The most substantive conversation they’ve had is when Marissa has offered to pick him up a sandwich on her way to grab lunch. She knows he favors turkey-and-cheese subs and Orange Crush soda, and that he served in the Vietnam War.
Marissa passes the hours in a haze of distraction, managing to wait on customers and clear dozens of emails out of her in-box, but constantly checking the clock. Finally, at 3:15 P.M., she tells Polly she needs to pick up Bennett from school. But instead of heading to her car, she rushes down Connecticut Avenue, toward Ray’s favorite bench.
Sure enough, she spots him wearing the same oversize coat she saw in the video. This time the sign by his feet says, in perfect block letters, SAVING UP TO BUY A BABY GIFT FOR HARRY AND MEGHAN.
“Hey, Ray.” Marissa tries to control the waver in her voice.
“Hey, Coco lady.” He gives her a little salute.
“I like your sign.” She digs a $5 bill out of her wallet and places it in the cup by his side. The best way to do this, she decides, is to be direct.
“Ray, I saw some video footage of you by my store late at night.”
“Yeah.” He seems unsurprised.
“Who gave you that note to put under my door?”