The Key Register Reached The Table Before Dennis Could Explain

Ruth Ellis called the next morning and asked me to bring my original key receipt.

"The district is reviewing both the accusation and the insurance filing," she said. "Please bring anything that places you elsewhere on October 8."

Mom offered to drive.

"I can drive," I said.

"I know. I can find parking while you practice breathing."

She dropped me near the district office and went to buy a sandwich. She said no useful repair had ever come from a hungry mechanic.

I carried one binder. On the cover, I had written dates, not Dennis's name.

Ruth met me in a room with a long table. A district investigator sat beside her. He introduced himself as Paul Ames and asked whether he could copy my records.

"Yes. The originals come home with me."

"Of course," he said.

That simple agreement felt like a door opening.

I gave them Tessa's report, my work schedule, and attendance sheets signed by the Amherst teachers. My motel receipt covered four nights. The host school had kept an afternoon group photograph with me standing beside the dome.

"These support your location," Ames said. "We'll confirm them directly."

Then Ruth put the key register on the table.

The lock work order listed one issued working key. Dennis had signed for it on October 7. The spare had been sealed in a numbered envelope at the district business office.

Ruth showed me its inspection record.

"The seal was intact when two staff members checked it yesterday."

The collection room had one door and no windows. The air study had never been ordered from a testing firm. Maintenance had only changed the lock.

"Who entered during that week?" I asked.

"Crowe's daily closure forms say no one else was admitted," Ruth said. "He signed each one."

At 7:38 on October 14, he had signed the working key back to the office clerk. At 7:40, the clerk had unlocked the room while Dennis signed the reopening sheet to admit me. Her own entry in the register confirmed it.

The new key had never reached my hand. The clerk had kept it while I collected the star cards.

Ames put the dates on a white pad.

October 4: original specimen photographed in place.

October 7 through 14: Crowe held the only issued key.

October 11: Crowe's email showed the substitute.

October 14: Marek entered.

He did not draw a circle around anything. He did not need to.

Dennis arrived fifteen minutes later with a thin leather folder. I had not known he was coming.

"I thought this was an internal review," he said when he saw me.

"It is a records interview," Ruth said. "Mr. Zielinski is identifying his receipt."

He sat across from me.

"A contractor can retain keys."

"Not to a cylinder installed after he surrendered the old one," Ames said. "Did you issue another key?"

"No."

"Did you admit anyone?"

"Not during the closure."

Ames slid the October 11 image toward him.

"Who took this?"

"I did."

"Was that object in the case on Friday?"

"Obviously."

Ruth placed Tessa's comparison beside it.

Dennis adjusted his glasses.

"Those rocks look alike to a layperson."

"You signed that all items were secure," Ruth said.

"I believed they were."

"Two days after reporting this one stolen?"

His hand stopped on the folder clasp.

"The broker opened a preliminary file. There may have been confusion about the date."

"The insurer preserved the submitted form," Ames said. "It contains your certification."

Dennis looked at me then.

"You have made a very large matter out of a simple inventory problem."

I wanted to tell him about the girl beside Jupiter. I wanted to read him the canceled bookings.

Instead, I asked Ruth to add his $720 offer to the record.

She already had it.

Ruth ended the joint portion of the interview. Dennis stayed behind. I took my binder and waited in the hall while Ames copied my receipt.

On a nearby chair was a public meeting packet. Its spending list included a $5,600 deposit for executive office plans. The drawing I had received was an attachment to that order.

The offices had started spending money before the collection had permission to leave.

When Ames returned, I pointed to the line. He wrote down the purchase number.

Outside, Mom handed me half her sandwich.

"How did it go?"

"He said it was simple."

"Usually means he wants somebody else to carry it."

My phone buzzed against the binder.

Dennis had forwarded a document titled Contractor Removal Authorization.

It said I had agreed to take the meteorite off school grounds.

At the bottom was my signature.