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security camera system is poorly set up. The cameras are mounted too low to the ground. If they were installed three or four feet higher, they would capture everything blocked out by the trash enclosure. And matters are made worse.”
    “The cameras covering the parking lot aren’t synchronized,” Gwen said.
    It had taken her a moment to work out Tarbell’s Houdini act. As her mind whirled to explain it, she stared hard at the two bottom images and spotted the flaw.
    Ingram examined her and nodded approvingly. “You’re correct, Mrs. Farris.”
    “I don’t see it,” Deborah said.
    “These two cameras,” Ingram pointed at the bottomtwo images, “pan left and right, but they aren’t synchronized. They should be working together. As one pans left, the other should be capturing what its twin is missing. This means Stephen Tarbell knew this and secreted himself behind the trash enclosure when the cameras weren’t looking his way.”
    “That’s amazing,” Deborah said.
    “No,” Ingram corrected. “That’s devious.”
    “How do you know that last night wasn’t a figment of my imagination?” Gwen said.
    “This.” Ingram got up from his seat, crouched in front of the TV and forward wound and rewound until he found the moment he was searching for, then paused the action. “Come take a look.”
    Gwen and Deborah crowded around the TV. Ingram pointed to the bottom right panel on the screen, tapped it, and told them to watch carefully. He hit play then stopped the action a second later.
    “See it?” he asked.
    Gwen shook her head.
    Ingram set the recording up again and replayed it again, but in slow motion. He tapped the screen at the moment he wanted them to see. He pointed to the corner edge of the trash enclosure. Gwen spotted something appear then disappear before the camera panned out of view.
    “I saw it,” Deborah said, “but what was it?”
    “A hand. Four fingers to be precise, grabbing the corner of the wall. I don’t know whose for sure, but I will when I get the image enhanced.”
    Gwen let out a long sigh.
    Ingram smiled. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t believe you, Mrs. Farris.”
    Ingram switched off the TV, and the three of them returned to their seats.
    “Where do we go from here?” Gwen asked.
    “We don’t have any clear evidence beyondtestimony, so two things: first, a complete background check that will unearth anything of this nature in his past and second, twenty-four-hour surveillance to either catch him in any move against you or other illegal activity.”
    “Will you go to the police with what you find?”
    Ingram took too long in responding. “Do you want to go to the police?”
    Now it was Gwen’s turn to be slow to answer. “No.”
    “Then Mr. Tarbell will be shown the evidence and given the opportunity to leave Pace with the suggestion he leave the state, too. I can make you every assurance he won’t make any attempt to harm you again.”
    Ingram’s politely worded statement came with a steel-edged promise. Gwen didn’t fancy being in Tarbell’s shoes when Ingram and friends caught up to him. She wished she could be there when it happened, though. She tried to convince herself it was for reasons of justice and not revenge but came up short. So what , she thought. He’d put her through enough that he deserved to lose his job and more. She’d be content when Tarbell’s cubicle turned up empty one morning.
    “Deborah has mentioned your injuries to me,” Ingram said. “I need to document them. For your comfort, I can have or one of my female colleagues come in and take the photos.”
    Gwen waved away Ingram’s considerate gesture and let him photograph the cuts and bruises. He carried out the task with the sensitivity of someone who wasn’t a stranger to this kind of victimization.
    As Gwen dressed, he said, “Now I need to get a statement from you.”
    Gwen began with the confrontation during Tarbell’s performance evaluation, then moved on to the