Federal investigators were monitoring suspicious vehicle activity on the public roadway.
His property offered an unobstructed angle.
The equipment would be externally mounted.
No interior access.
No neighboring backyards.
Written agreement.
Temporary.
Marcus asked whether helping created risk.
Dana said minimal.
He trusted that.
Now he wondered whether minimal had changed.
His doorbell rang.
Marcus checked the monitor.
Martin Hale.
HOA vice president.
Marcus opened the door.
Martin held a folder.
“Can we talk?”
Marcus considered.
Then stepped onto the porch rather than inviting him in.
“What happened?”
Martin looked embarrassed.
“Brenda called an emergency board session.”
“Today?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
“She wants the HOA to sue.”
Marcus stared.
“Who?”
“Federal government.”
Marcus actually laughed.
Martin raised both hands.
“I know.”
“Does she have any idea how lawyers work?”
“She believes the installation violated covenants.”
Marcus leaned against the doorframe.
“And you?”
“I think Brenda climbed your house with a hammer.”
Good.
Martin continued:
“But there's more.”
He opened the folder.
“Complaints about cameras.”
Marcus's attention sharpened.
Martin handed him copies.
Four anonymous letters.
No signatures.
Typed.
Each urged the HOA to “address invasive surveillance proliferation.”
One specifically identified Marcus's address.
Another listed three other homes.
Marcus recognized two addresses as having doorbell cameras facing streets.
The third was 412 Sutton Lane.
Interesting.
But that letter did not complain about the camera at 412.
It complained about a neighboring house whose camera could see 412.
Marcus looked toward Martin.
“When did these arrive?”
“Six weeks.”
“Who collected them?”
“Brenda.”
“Anyone else touch originals?”
“Management probably.”
“Derek?”
Martin frowned.
“Why?”
“Does he attend compliance meetings?”
“Sometimes.”
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“Don't destroy anything.”
Martin looked surprised.
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Don't scan and throw originals away.”
“Don't write on them.”
“Don't reorganize.”
Martin stared.
“This is serious.”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
Martin closed the folder.
“Are you in trouble?”
“No.”
“Is the neighborhood?”
Marcus thought about Dana's careful language.
“I don't know.”
That answer scared Martin more.
The next morning, before the HOA meeting, federal agents executed searches at two properties outside Briar Ridge.
Marcus learned from local news alerts.
No neighborhood addresses mentioned.
Cargo-theft investigation.
Electronics.
Luxury goods.
Warehouse burglaries.
No suspects publicly identified.
At 3:20 p.m., Dana called.
“Do you know where Brenda is?”
Marcus frowned.
“Why would I?”
“Check neighborhood cameras.”
“Mine?”
“Whatever you legally have.”
Marcus opened his doorbell feed.
Nothing.
Then driveway.
Nothing.
“Why?”
Dana avoided.
Marcus hated that.
He opened the HOA community portal.
Brenda had posted a meeting reminder thirty minutes earlier.
Clubhouse at six.
“She plans to be at clubhouse.”
Dana paused.
“Who else?”