June stepped smoothly between him and the ladder. “How did you know the system was damaged?”
Travis blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Our monitoring center detected a loss of output.”
“The inverter is still connected and powered,” June pointed out.
Travis hesitated for a fraction of a second. “We received an automatic alert.”
Helen let out a bitter, mocking laugh from the cruiser. “You received an alert because your transmitter stopped sending data!”
Ignoring her, Travis walked to the rear of his service truck and swung open the doors. Inside sat a pristine, replacement solar panel—labeled panel number six. Neatly affixed to its frame was a printed label bearing my exact home address.
A cold shiver ran down my spine. The damage to my roof had occurred less than fifteen minutes earlier. BrightCurrent’s nearest regional warehouse was forty miles away. There was no physical way Travis could have loaded the correct replacement panel, driven across county lines, and reached my house that quickly unless he was already nearby.
He had been waiting in the vicinity, monitoring the feed in real-time.
June ordered Travis to step away from the truck. Travis refused, crossing his arms defensively.