“No.”
“Then I'm leaving.”
Ruiz stepped aside.
“You can.”
Brenda looked relieved.
Then Simone spoke.
“Leave the bucket.”
Brenda turned.
“What?”
“That's mine now.”
“No, it isn't.”
“You carried it onto my property as part of what you called an inspection.”
Brenda looked toward Ruiz.
He said:
“You don't have to leave it unless it's evidence voluntarily surrendered.”
Simone nodded.
“Fair.”
Then she looked at Brenda.
“Take it.”
Brenda lifted her chin.
“Gladly.”
Simone smiled.
“Carefully.”
Brenda stared.
“You don't want any of your comparison material spilling before the camera sees where you take it next.”
There it was.
Brenda looked toward the camera again.
Then at Ruiz.
Then toward the street.
Simone had not planned the sentence.
But something about Brenda's reaction mattered.
Ruiz saw it too.
“Ms. Whitmore?”
“What?”
“Where were you taking that bucket before you entered this yard?”
“My house.”
“Where did you fill it?”
Brenda paused.
“Common drainage.”
“Where specifically?”
“I don't remember.”
Ruiz's expression remained neutral.
Brenda grew angrier.
“This is harassment.”
Simone laughed once.
Brenda spun toward her.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think you broke into my backyard and now you're complaining about questions.”
Ruiz raised one hand.
“Let's keep it calm.”
Brenda turned toward him.
“I want her cited.”
“For?”
“Harassment.”
Ruiz looked almost apologetic.
“That's not how citations work.”
Brenda marched toward the gate.
She stopped before exiting.
Looked back at Simone.
“This is not over.”
Simone's voice stayed quiet.
“No.”
“It isn't.”
Brenda left.
The gate clicked behind her.
Ruiz watched until she disappeared.
Then turned toward Simone.
“Okay.”
Simone exhaled for what felt like the first time in ten minutes.
“Okay what?”
“I think you were right.”
“About her?”
“About somebody entering.”
Simone looked toward the gate.
“What happens now?”
Ruiz lifted the phone.
“We start by saving everything.”
The video from that morning was almost too good.
Not visually impressive.
Legally useful.
Brenda approached the gate from the sidewalk carrying the red bucket.
She looked toward the house.
Then toward both neighboring yards.
She opened her black waist pouch.
Removed a thin metal tool.
Worked the lock.
Entered.
All before Simone walked outside.
Ruiz saved a copy directly from the camera system.
Then another to external storage.
Simone emailed herself the raw file.
Backup.
Ruiz smiled.
“You weren't kidding about documentation.”
“No.”
They reviewed older footage.
That took nearly two hours.
At 5:47 a.m. six days earlier, the unidentified figure entered.
Different clothes.
Same height.
Same gait.