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“I don’t know, but those were her words exactly. I didn’t think much of it because it seemed kind of normal to me… Call me old-fashioned but I feel like it’s normal to give a trusted neighbor a key, maybe to check the house during a vacation, or turn off a forgotten oven, things like that. I didn’t think much about it to be honest with you.”
Amos Hoyt is lying.
“Would you mind showing me the view you have of the home?”
He frowns.
“You said the same lights have been on for forty-eight hours. I’m curious where in this house you have a clear shot of the Kaings’ windows.”
“Oh,” he nods. “Up in my bedroom.”
I follow him upstairs to the master bedroom, which is much like the rest of the home. Dated, with antique furniture badly in need of polish, peeling wallpaper, and a musty scent.
Hoyt gestures to a double glass door that leads to a small deck. Sure enough, there is a break in the trees that allows for a full view of most of the Kaing home.
“Mind if I step outside?”
“Of course.”
I slide open the door and step onto the small balcony. Hoyt follows.
“I sit out here a lot,” he says, his body backlit by the porch light, his craggy face darkened by shadows.
I say nothing, shifting my focus to my hearing. I can hear the waves of the lake in the distance, and just barely, I can hear the voices of the officers speaking outside of the Kaing home.
“Did Alyssa and Zach ever have arguments that you might’ve heard while sitting out here?”
He pauses—and I am now certain he’s leaving out something.
“Everyone argues,” he says.
“Did they?”
“Yes, a few times, but nothing alarming.”
“Was there yelling?”
“Raised voices. I wouldn’t call it yelling.”
“How many times have you heard raised voices?”
“A few. Not many.”
“When was the last time?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“So right around the time she gave you the key?”
He doesn’t respond, and appears to take a second to digest the implication.
“Alright, well, thank you very much, Amos. Would it be okay if I visit again, or call you, if I have any other questions?”
“Anytime. I’ll walk you out.”
As I turn to follow Hoyt into the house, I notice three pairs of binoculars sitting on the coffee table, next to a half-burned marijuana joint.
SIX
