She said she was offering practical advice.
The following week, someone poured black paint across my front steps.
The paint was still wet when I returned from the hardware store.
A note taped to the door accused me of ruining neighborhood values.
I photographed the steps before cleaning anything.
Karen appeared at the sidewalk while I was taking pictures.
She said the vandalism was unfortunate but predictable.
She suggested that people were tired of my hostility.
I asked whether she had seen anyone near the house.
She said she had been busy protecting the neighborhood.
I reported the damage and installed two cameras that afternoon.
One camera faced the front steps.
The other faced the driveway and the public street.
I positioned them to avoid recording the interior of anyone else’s home.
Karen watched from her porch as I mounted the second camera.
She told me that surveillance made decent people uncomfortable.
I said decent people could still appreciate a clear record of events.
She walked inside without another word.
Three nights later, someone ripped the wooden gate from its hinges.
The gate had been built by Evelyn’s father.
He had carved a tiny star into the bottom rail when Sophie was born.
I found the star beneath a pile of splintered boards.
That hurt more than the paint.
The camera captured a hooded figure entering from the alley shortly after midnight.
The figure wore gloves and kept its face away from the lens.
The recording showed a distinctive reflective strip on the sleeve.
I gave the footage to Deputy Clara Voss, who had taken the first report.
Clara examined the damage and asked whether I had argued with anyone recently.
I told her about Karen and the easement.
Clara wrote everything down without promising an arrest.
She said motive alone would not identify the person in the video.
I agreed.
I had worked as an insurance investigator for twenty six years before retiring.
My job had taught me to separate what I suspected from what I could prove.
A good suspicion pointed toward a question.
A good piece of evidence answered one.
Karen had no idea that I knew the difference.
She seemed to think my quiet behavior meant that I was frightened.
At the next neighborhood meeting, she announced that certain residents had become unstable.
She never used my name.
She looked directly at me while describing a man who watched women from hidden cameras and threatened anyone who challenged him.
