Coop is of course immensely fond of the little statue. He's not sure how old it is or how long it's been there but for how ruined it looks it's actually in fine condition. He suspects it will be up for quite some time to come.

(Unless Albert and Harry successfully haul it off in the middle of the night)

He hears the car pull up and he stretches. Very distantly he can feel them stirring quietly, coming to attention. He closes his eyes for a moment and reminds himself again that his body is his own. All they can do these days is watch.

He's drawn back to the present when the doorbell sounds.

The first thing Heather sees when the door opens is thin man in a sweater that is far too thick for this time of year. His smile doesn't quite fit on his face.

(Not quite a wild axe murderer, more Norman Bates, really.)

“Hello, Heather.”