The patio door slid open.
Officer Ruiz walked outside.
Brenda froze.
He wore full uniform.
Body camera illuminated.
Phone in one hand showing the live security feed.
He stopped several feet behind Simone.
“She doesn't have to move.”
Brenda's face changed so quickly Simone almost felt secondhand embarrassment.
Ruiz continued calmly.
“I've been watching since you opened the gate.”
For perhaps three seconds, Brenda said nothing.
Then she laughed.
It sounded wrong.
Thin.
Forced.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
Ruiz looked toward the red bucket.
“What's in there?”
“Pool material.”
“Whose pool?”
Brenda hesitated.
“Association investigation material.”
Ruiz looked at Simone.
Then back.
“That's not what I asked.”
Brenda straightened.
“Officer, I am Brenda Whitmore, president of the Willow Creek Estates Homeowners Association.”
Ruiz waited.
Brenda seemed to expect the title to create movement.
It did not.
She continued.
“I have authority to inspect properties for violations.”
“Do you have permission from the homeowner to enter?”
“I don't need personal permission.”
Ruiz looked toward Simone.
Simone said:
“She does.”
Ruiz returned to Brenda.
“Do you have a court order?”
Brenda stared.
“No.”
“Emergency?”
“Yes.”
Simone's eyebrows rose.
Ruiz asked:
“What emergency?”
“Potential pool contamination.”
He looked toward the pristine water.
“What's the immediate danger?”
Brenda gestured with the bucket.
“That is what I'm investigating.”
Ruiz glanced down.
“By bringing debris onto the property?”
Brenda's face tightened.
“It is comparison material.”
“Why does it need to be over her pool?”
Silence.
Ruiz looked toward the gate.
“Was it locked?”
Brenda answered too quickly.
“No.”
Simone said:
“Yes.”
Brenda spun.
“It opened.”
“That wasn't the question.”
Ruiz stepped toward the latch.
He examined it.
Simone followed.
The brass showed new scratches.
One small metal tool lay on the ground outside the gate.
Brenda saw it.
Her expression shifted.
Ruiz looked down.
Then at her waist pouch.
“Do you have anything used to open that lock?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“I'm not searching you.”
Brenda relaxed slightly.
“Good.”
“I am asking.”
“I said no.”
Simone looked at the pouch.
A thin metal pick protruded from one side.
Barely.
Ruiz saw it too.
He sighed.
“Ma'am.”
Brenda looked down.
Then covered the pouch with one hand.
“I use that for garden equipment.”
Ruiz nodded.
“Okay.”
No accusation.
No shouting.
He took photographs.
That seemed to frighten Brenda more.
She looked toward the street beyond the fence.
“Am I being detained?”