Marcus had ignored them.
The second complaint accused the device of “creating discomfort among nearby residents.”
Dana read.
“Who lives nearby?”
Marcus listed houses.
No immediate recognition.
Then he remembered.
“Derek.”
Dana looked up.
“What?”
“Derek Shaw.”
“Maintenance guy.”
“He doesn't live here.”
“No.”
Marcus pulled up HOA records.
“But I saw him working two houses down last month.”
“Which house?”
“Corner of Briar and Sutton.”
Dana leaned closer.
Marcus found address.
412 Sutton Lane.
The room changed.
Dana handed the address to another agent.
The agent left immediately.
Marcus looked around.
“Okay.”
Dana said:
“You stay here.”
“I live here.”
“Convenient.”
“Was that address already relevant?”
Dana did not answer.
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“Dana.”
She looked toward him.
“Do not leave today unless we tell you.”
Marcus stared.
“That's not comforting.”
“It's not meant to be.”
Agents departed quickly.
Two remained.
One technician replaced the broken camera mounting plate with temporary hardware but did not install a new visible device.
Marcus watched from the patio.
At 10:13, his HOA group chat exploded.
Brenda had ignored Dana's advice.
Of course.
The first message came from a neighbor.
Why are FBI cars at Marcus's house???
Then another:
Is everyone okay?
Then:
Brenda says Marcus installed illegal government cameras in Briar Ridge.
Marcus closed his eyes.
Dana, still inside, heard him sigh.
“What?”
He handed over the phone.
She read.
Her jaw tightened.
“You have got to be kidding.”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“Welcome to homeowners association governance.”
Another message arrived.
She says federal agents threatened her for enforcing HOA rules.
Dana handed the phone back.
“Do not respond.”
Marcus typed nothing.
Then Brenda posted herself.
Residents deserve transparency concerning surveillance conducted within our community. I will be consulting counsel regarding today's disturbing discovery.
Dana stared.
Marcus said:
“She loves transparency now.”
“Marcus.”
“Sorry.”
Dana made a call.
Within an hour, the group chat went silent.
Marcus never learned exactly who told Brenda to stop.
He imagined the conversation had been memorable.
At noon, Andre called.
Marcus's older brother worked as a physical therapist and treated neighborhood gossip as a competitive sport.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“There are federal agents at your house.”
“There were.”
“Why?”
“Can't discuss.”
Andre went quiet.
Then:
“You finally committed cybercrime?”
“No.”
“Tax fraud?”
“No.”
“Secret second family?”
Marcus stared at the phone.
“What?”
“I don't know. I'm brainstorming.”
“HOA issue.”
Andre laughed so loudly Marcus moved the phone away.
“Federal HOA?”
“No.”
Marcus explained only the safe portion.
Brenda smashed a camera.
Camera belonged to government investigators.
Andre stopped laughing.
Then started again harder.
“She did what?”
“Don't.”
“Was she wearing pink?”
Marcus hung up.
Andre called back immediately.
Marcus ignored him.
By evening, federal vehicles had left.
Marcus stood in his yard looking at the empty bracket where the camera had been.
The ordinary house suddenly felt less ordinary.
He had agreed to the surveillance installation because Dana approached him two months earlier with a simple request.