“This looks recently damaged.”
Linda folded her arms.
“I was preventing continued noncompliance.”
Mills stared at her.
“You damaged the cable?”
“I was enforcing HOA standards.”
“That wasn't my question either.”
Linda didn't answer.
I stayed quiet.
The camera footage did the talking.
It showed Linda entering my property.
It showed her opening the utility enclosure.
It showed her positioning the cutters around the cable.
It showed the connection dropping.
Nobody could interpret that footage as a landscaping inspection.
When the video ended, Linda changed tactics.
“There are circumstances you're not understanding.”
Mills folded his arms.
“Help me understand.”
I opened the email from my provider.
Then the city approval.
Mills read both.
His expression hardened.
“It says here the installation is permitted within the utility easement.”
Linda shook her head.
“That doesn't supersede private community standards.”
Officer Green looked at her.
“HOA standards don't normally authorize criminal damage.”
Linda laughed nervously.
“Criminal damage? This is absurd.”
Then Green noticed Linda's folder.
“What is that?”
“Association records.”
“Any work order concerning this property?”
“Those are confidential.”
Her reaction was too quick.
I remembered something.
“When I came outside, she was texting someone.”
Linda looked at me.
I continued.
“I saw a message preview. It said, ‘Willow Crest done. Two more tonight.’”
Mills turned toward Linda.
“What did the message refer to?”
“Nothing.”
“Can we see your phone?”
“No.”
Mills nodded.
“You're not required to consent.”
“I don't.”
I watched Linda carefully.
She had been confident when she arrived.
Now she was defensive.
Then her phone screen lit up.
Officer Green was standing close enough to see the preview.
Her eyes narrowed.
The message said:
Maple Lane still has the camera. Wait until dark.
Green looked at Linda.
“So there are other houses.”
Linda locked the phone.
“That is none of your business.”
Green's expression hardened.
“It might be.”
Mills contacted dispatch.
He asked whether there had been recent complaints involving damaged cables, irrigation systems, or exterior equipment in Brookstone Ridge.
There had.
Three.
One fiber line.
One landscape-lighting cable.
One irrigation controller.
All within six weeks.
I stared at Linda.
She stared straight ahead.
Officer Green asked for the addresses.
The first was Maple Lane.
The second was Garden Crest.
The third was my own address.
Linda finally snapped.
“Don't turn this into race.”
I looked at her.
Nobody had mentioned race.
Not one person.
Green noticed too.
“Ma'am, nobody said that.”
Linda went silent.
Martha walked closer from the sidewalk.