Then said:
“Vehicle movement.”
“That's vague.”
“Intentionally.”
“People?”
“Potentially.”
“Drugs?”
“No.”
“Human trafficking?”
“No.”
“Weapons?”
“I said I can't discuss it.”
Marcus looked at her.
She sighed.
“Property crime.”
He relaxed slightly.
“That's all?”
Dana's expression said nothing about federal investigations was ever “all.”
She continued:
“A regional burglary and cargo-theft organization has been using high-value residential communities as temporary transfer locations.”
Marcus stared.
“In our neighborhood?”
“We had reason to believe someone connected to the network was operating nearby.”
“Derek Shaw?”
Dana said nothing.
Marcus nodded.
“Right.”
She pointed toward the house.
“Can we come inside?”
Marcus looked down at himself.
“No.”
Dana blinked.
“No?”
“Give me five minutes to remove this face mask and put on pants that have buttons.”
One agent behind her coughed.
Marcus pointed.
“You too.”
The agent looked away.
Five minutes became eight.
Marcus changed into jeans and a navy T-shirt.
The face mask went into the trash.
He briefly considered sending his sister a message blaming her.
Then decided she would ask too many questions.
Downstairs, agents occupied his kitchen.
Dana stood near the island.
A technician reviewed the backup footage.
Marcus poured fresh coffee.
“Anyone?”
Three agents said yes.
Government investigation or not, people remained people.
Marcus made a pot.
Dana watched.
“You're taking this remarkably well.”
Marcus poured.
“I work in cybersecurity.”
“Meaning?”
“I spend my professional life telling organizations a breach happened because someone clicked something stupid.”
He handed her a mug.
“This feels familiar.”
The technician called them over.
“Got the exterior feed.”
The secondary camera had captured Brenda arriving at 8:41 a.m.
No car visible.
She carried the ladder herself.
Hammer in a tote bag.
She looked around repeatedly before entering Marcus's side yard.
Marcus frowned.
“She knew I was home.”
Dana asked:
“How?”
“My car's in the garage.”
“That doesn't prove anything.”
“I work from home.”
“Does she know your schedule?”
“Probably.”
“HOA president.”
Marcus shook his head.
The video continued.
Brenda positioned the ladder.
She paused.
Pulled out her phone.
Made a call.
Dana stopped the footage.
“Can we recover audio?”
“Not from this angle.”
“Phone record later.”
Marcus looked toward her.
“You think someone told her to do this.”
Dana did not answer directly.
“I think timing interests me.”
The camera had been scheduled for replacement Monday as part of routine equipment rotation.
Only a handful of people knew the device mattered.
The investigative team.
Marcus.
Possibly anyone watching agent vehicle patterns.
Someone might have seen technicians install it.
Someone could simply dislike cameras.
Or someone wanted it removed.
The distinction mattered.
Dana asked:
“Did Brenda complain about the camera before today?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Marcus thought.
“Twice in writing.”
“Three times verbally.”
“First email about a month ago.”
“Send all of it.”
He opened his laptop.
The first email was mild.
Exterior camera appears to capture common roadway beyond reasonable security need. Please provide architectural approval.
Marcus had replied:
Existing governing documents do not require approval for standard residential security equipment mounted below roofline. Camera captures my driveway and public roadway only.
Brenda responded with four paragraphs.