The porch light came on overhead, low and yellow.

The door opened just far enough to show a man in a heavy work shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and the smell of wet pine lumber came off him.

He was holding a half-full glass of water and didn’t put it down.

“Evening,” he said.

His voice came out low and relaxed.

“What’s this about?”

María held her badge up at chest level.

“Officers López and Harris.