“You still haven’t fixed that mess,” she said to me.
“I filed the insurance claim,” I answered.
Gwen smiled, and the expression frightened me more than her shouting.
“Insurance companies ask questions,” she said.
“I hope you have proper records.”
I had records for every repair, although I kept that information to myself.
After the officers left, Gwen lingered beside the sidewalk.
“Alice has always been fragile,” she said.
“She’s made terrible mistakes when she gets emotional.”
“If you have concerns about her safety, you can discuss them with the appropriate people,” I replied.
Gwen stepped closer.
“You think a folder of pictures makes you important.”
I held her gaze.
“I think a young woman deserves to know who hurt her.”
She turned away without another word.
That evening the police told me the security footage had been preserved and the vandalism reports were now being reviewed together.
They did not promise an immediate result.
I sat on the porch watching the neighborhood settle into darkness.
Across the street, children ran through sprinkler mist while a man took groceries from the trunk of his car.
The ordinary scene made our conflict seem unreal.
But every time a vehicle passed the service road, I pictured a bicycle lying twisted against the guardrail.
Three days later Ramon called about a man asking unusual questions at the hardware store.
The man had wanted to know which replacement locks Ramon had installed on my gate.
He had also asked whether the garage recorder was connected to the new security lights.
Ramon had refused to discuss a customer’s property.
“He wasn’t buying anything,” Ramon told me.
“He wore bright red work gloves even inside the store.”
I remembered the figure from the night of the break-in, running through the rain with a long object in one hand.
The image was too dark to identify the clothing, but I had noticed something pale around the person’s wrists.
I asked Ramon to tell Detective Brooks rather than trying to locate the man himself.
He agreed.
That afternoon I received a message from a stranger named Travis Bell.
He claimed to be a friend of Evan’s and wanted to meet because the police were asking about his storage building.
I forwarded the message to Brooks and did not respond.
Within an hour Travis sent another message.
“I didn’t break your window, and I want that on record.”
I saved the screen and continued working.
