He was already there, as it turned out, having called me on the cell phone from Karen’s living room. I love being dependable, while people like Rezenbach just assume you’ll be available at their convenience. Karen’s house was lovely. A small Victorian, it had been detailed within an inch of its life by whoever painted it last, and was a tasteful combination of blue, aqua, and white, with a white railing on the wrap-around porch and plants hanging from the exposed beams on the screened-in section of the porch, insulated now by glass so the plants were actually alive and well. This contrasted with my house, where any plant that enters during any season might just as well abandon all hope. Rezenbach answered the door himself, which surprised me. I figured he’d have minions with him, since these guys always have minions. I also figured out that one of them would handle the more mundane tasks, like opening doors. But there he was, showing off his turning and pulling skills like a real pro.
