Then at the hammer.
Then at the broken sprinkler.
I recognized her immediately.
Detective Camila Ortega.
Scottsdale Police Department.
She was supposed to meet me at two that afternoon to review evidence concerning three previous acts of vandalism at my property.
Apparently, she'd arrived early.
Patricia was still talking.
“Do you hear me, Mr. Brooks? I can make your life miserable in this neighborhood.”
I didn't answer.
I was watching the detective.
She had stopped just inside the open gate.
Her expression was calm, but her eyes were fixed on the claw hammer in Patricia's hand.
Then she spoke.
“Ma'am.”
Patricia froze.
For a moment, she didn't turn.
The detective continued.
“Please place the hammer on the ground.”
Patricia slowly looked over her shoulder.
Her face changed.
“Who are you?”
The woman reached toward her identification.
“Detective Camila Ortega. Scottsdale Police Department.”
Patricia stared.
Then her eyes moved toward the badge.
For the first time since entering my backyard, she looked frightened.
The detective glanced toward me.
“Mr. Brooks, are you injured?”
“No.”
She nodded.
Then looked toward Patricia again.
“Ma'am, I need you to set the hammer down and keep your hands visible.”
Patricia's mouth opened.
Closed.
Then she tried to smile.
“Oh, Detective, this is all a misunderstanding.”
Camila looked at the broken sprinkler.
Water was still spraying across the lawn.
Then she looked toward the hammer.
“Is it?”
Patricia swallowed.
“I'm the HOA president. I'm conducting official enforcement.”
The detective's expression didn't change.
“Then you'll have an opportunity to explain the authority you're relying on.”
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Patricia carefully lowered the hammer to the grass.
I felt my shoulders relax slightly.
Camila looked toward me.
“Mr. Brooks, do you have the security footage you mentioned when we arranged today's interview?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Patricia turned sharply.
“Security footage?”
I looked directly at her.
Then toward the camera above the patio door.
Its small green indicator light was blinking.
Recording.
I took a breath.