“I think I do.”
She laughed.
“You really believe you can intimidate me?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
He looked toward the street.
“I think you already did enough to yourself.”
Ten minutes later, a sheriff's SUV turned onto Bellmont Ridge Drive.
Denise immediately straightened.
Her entire posture changed.
She adjusted her pink jacket.
She smoothed her hair.
Then she pointed toward Marcus.
“That's him.”
The SUV stopped.
Two deputies stepped out.
The first was a tall white man in his late thirties.
The second was a Black woman in her early forties.
Both wore tan uniforms.
Both looked toward the wreckage.
The male deputy stopped walking.
The female deputy's expression changed.
She looked at the Ferrari.
Then at the excavator.
Then at Marcus.
Then back at the Ferrari.
Denise hurried toward them.
“Deputies, thank goodness.”
The male deputy raised a hand.
“Ma'am, slow down.”
“He's out of control.”
“Who?”
“That man.”
She pointed at Marcus.
“He became violent when I explained that the HOA had removed his unauthorized vehicle.”
The female deputy looked at the destroyed Ferrari.
“Removed?”
“Yes.”
“By an excavator?”
Denise nodded.
“Yes.”
The deputy stared at her.
“You ordered an excavator?”
“The HOA authorized a contractor.”
The male deputy walked closer to the wreckage.
He crouched.
He examined a piece of the frame.
Then he stood.
“Ma'am, what exactly was this vehicle?”
“An old sports car.”
He looked at her.
“Which one?”
Denise shrugged.
“I don't know.”
The deputy looked toward Marcus.
Marcus remained silent.
The female deputy stepped closer to the wreckage.
She recognized the body shape.
Her eyes widened.
“Deputy Harris,” she said quietly.
He turned.
She whispered something.
His expression changed.
He walked around the wreckage.
Then he looked at the VIN plate lying near the crushed engine compartment.
He picked it up.
He stared at it for several seconds.
Denise crossed her arms.
“What?”
The deputy didn't answer.
He pulled out his phone.
He typed the VIN.
His face became completely serious.
“Ma'am,” he said.
“Yes?”
“Who authorized this?”
Denise lifted the HOA folder.
“The board.”
“I didn't ask who authorized the HOA action.”
She frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean who authorized the destruction of the vehicle?”