Her face twisted.
"You can't do this!"
He looked directly at her.
"Please follow our instructions."
She glanced toward the gate.
For one brief moment, I thought she might try to leave.
Then she saw the younger deputy standing near the exit.
Her shoulders dropped.
She stopped arguing.
The older deputy continued speaking in a measured voice, explaining the immediate process.
I stood several feet away watching.
Months of intimidation had brought us to this moment.
But I didn't feel triumphant.
Not yet.
Because six other households had already been affected.
And the woman standing in my backyard was only one part of a financial trail that investigators had barely begun to uncover.
The deputies remained at my property for nearly two hours.
The older deputy spoke with Patricia separately while his partner documented the scene and took my statement.
I described everything in chronological order.
The banging against the gate.
The threats.
The bag thrown over the fence.
The climb.
The fertilizer.
The statements about creating a violation.
And the final threat to charge me for a cleanup.
I tried to repeat her words exactly.
Not because I thought my memory was perfect.
Because the security recording would allow investigators to verify the details.
When the younger deputy asked whether I wanted to pursue a formal complaint about the unauthorized entry and damage, I answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
He nodded.
Then asked about the pool.
I explained that I'd need a qualified contractor to identify the material, assess the water, determine whether any equipment had been affected, and recommend appropriate remediation.
He agreed that I should preserve records of those costs.
I looked toward the water.
The beautiful blue surface was now littered with granules, and a small amount of fertilizer residue had collected near the steps.
For a moment, I felt the anger rising again.
I had maintained this pool carefully.
Not because I was obsessive.
Because it was part of my home.
I had spent money and time making it safe and comfortable for family visits.
Now someone had deliberately compromised it.
The deputy noticed my expression.
"Are you okay, sir?"
I took a breath.
"Just angry."
He nodded.
"Understandable."
I looked toward Patricia.
She stood beside the patio furniture, speaking to the older deputy.
Her hands moved rapidly.
Her face was flushed.
I turned back.
"I don't want to do anything that complicates the investigation."
"Then let us handle the evidence and follow the procedures."
I nodded.
That was exactly what I intended to do.
When the deputies eventually escorted Patricia toward the gate, she turned once more.
Her eyes found mine.
For a moment, I saw the old expression return.
The contempt.
The certainty that she was somehow above the people around her.
Then she spoke.
"You think you've won."
I looked at her.