Marcus nodded.
“Can you tell when they entered?”
“Not precisely.”
“Can you tell if they were thrown in?”
Luis pointed toward the steps.
“Most are concentrated here.”
“Meaning?”
“Someone probably entered from this side.”
Marcus looked at the fence.
The side gate was twenty feet away.
Luis frowned.
“Your lock?”
“Broken.”
“When?”
“Today.”
Luis stared at him.
“Somebody did this?”
“Yes.”
Luis shook his head.
“That's crazy.”
Marcus didn't answer.
Luis looked at the bags.
“You have kids?”
“My niece.”
“How old?”
“Thirteen.”
Luis's expression changed.
“Don't let her swim.”
“I won't.”
Luis looked toward the house.
“You should call the police.”
Marcus nodded.
“I will.”
“But?”
Marcus looked at him.
“But I wanted to know what I was dealing with first.”
Luis understood.
He had worked in neighborhoods like this for fifteen years.
He knew people could behave differently when cameras were present.
Marcus wasn't interested in appearances anymore.
He wanted evidence.
Thursday Morning
Now, at 6:17 Thursday morning, Marcus watched Victoria leave.
At 6:25, he called the police.
Two officers arrived forty minutes later.
They examined the broken gate.
Photographed the pool.
Collected the evidence bags.
Reviewed the footage.
One officer watched silently.
Then asked:
“Do you know her?”
“Yes.”
“Relationship?”
“HOA president.”
The officer looked at him.
“She did this because of the HOA?”
“I don't know.”
“Has she threatened you?”
“Not directly.”
“Any disputes?”
“Several.”