If he'd simply accepted the drainage proposal, the board might have approved the project without examining the old invoices.
If he hadn't encouraged Helen to ask questions, the accounting review might never have expanded.
And if he'd respected Deborah's authority, she wouldn't be facing inquiries about payments she had preferred to keep private.
That was how she justified her anger.
She didn't stop to consider that Marcus hadn't prepared the invoices.
He hadn't arranged the consulting payments.
And he hadn't submitted questionable reimbursement records.
He'd merely asked whether the work and costs were supported.
But Deborah wasn't interested in that distinction anymore.
She wanted him frightened.
She wanted him quiet.
And she wanted the neighborhood to understand that challenging her could have consequences.
That evening, Richard found her standing in the garage beside a bag of landscaping supplies.
He noticed a gray concrete block resting near the side door.
"What's all this?"
Deborah turned sharply.
"Garden work."
Richard looked toward the block.
"At this hour?"
She folded her arms.
"I've got things to take care of tomorrow."
He studied her.
For a moment, he seemed about to ask another question.
Then he noticed the expression on her face.
"Deborah, please don't do anything foolish."
She laughed.
"Like what?"
He took a breath.
"Whatever you're thinking about Marcus."
Her expression hardened.
"That man is destroying my reputation."
Richard shook his head.
"Your reputation isn't something he controls."
She stared.
He continued.
"If the records are clean, the audit will show it. If there are problems, fighting with him won't make them disappear."
Deborah looked away.
For a moment, she almost listened.
Her husband wasn't shouting.
He wasn't insulting her.
He was asking her to stop escalating a dispute that had already become dangerous.
But admitting he was right would mean accepting responsibility for choices she'd spent months defending.
So she dismissed him.
"Go inside, Richard."
He hesitated.
Then nodded sadly.
As he walked toward the house, he glanced once more at the concrete block.
He assumed she intended to use it for landscaping.
He had no reason to imagine that the following afternoon, a similar block would be lying on the floor of a thirteen-year-old girl's bedroom.
Saturday morning began peacefully on the street.
Marcus rose early and drove to a hardware supplier to collect materials for a job scheduled the following week.
When he returned, he parked his pickup beside Daniel Mercer's house.
The two neighbors had arranged to repair a loose section of the garden fence before winter.
Daniel had already purchased the replacement hardware.
Marcus brought the tools.
At nine-thirty, Emily came outside carrying a small backpack decorated with stars.
She was leaving for the astronomy workshop.