Chapter 2: A Small Doubt
285 words
“Are you certain about that?” I asked, gripping my phone. “Because I checked at 6:15 and the cooler was empty.”
“Our drivers operate with GPS verification and photo documentation for every delivery,” the representative explained. “It protects the company from fraudulent refund claims and establishes proof of delivery under our service agreement.”
“That sounds like solid documentation,” I admitted. “Could you send me the photo?”
“Of course.”
Seconds later, the email appeared in my inbox.
I opened the attachment.
Two frosty bottles of milk sat neatly inside my cooler. The timestamp read 5:46 AM, creating a clear digital transaction record confirming the delivery.
“Well,” I said slowly, “then someone must have removed them after the driver left.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bennett,” she replied sympathetically. “Because the delivery was verified, the company’s contractual liability ends at drop-off. We cannot issue reimbursement for theft after completion. If necessary, you may want to file a police report for property loss.”
I thanked her and hung up.
Technically, the company was right. Once a delivery is documented, the risk of loss transfers to the customer. It was basic consumer contract law.
Still, something about the situation bothered me.
I zoomed in on the delivery photo again.
The morning grass was wet with dew. At the edge of the image, faint disturbances appeared in the moisture—marks that hadn’t been there when the driver placed the milk down.
Footprints.
Not large ones either. They were narrow, the kind made by small walking shoes.
I followed the direction of the marks across the lawn.
They didn’t lead toward the sidewalk or the street.
They cut straight across my yard.
Toward the neighboring property.
Toward Beatrice Montgomery’s house.
End of Chapter 2
