The lawyer nodded.
“That would be wise.”
He started to leave.
Marcus said:
“One question.”
Kline turned.
“Does Brenda know I have video?”
Everything changed.
Not dramatically.
The attorney was too experienced for that.
But Marcus saw the stillness.
The fraction of a second before Kline answered.
“What video?”
Marcus smiled.
“That's what I thought.”
Kline left.
Marcus hired an attorney that afternoon.
Her name was Maya Lewis.
Forty-three.
Black.
Former insurance-defense lawyer who switched sides after deciding she preferred representing individuals to defending corporations.
She watched the driveway video.
Then watched again.
Her reaction was quieter than Andre's.
More concerning.
“Do police have this?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Attorney knows?”
“Now he knows something exists.”
Maya nodded.
“Good enough.”
She looked through the HOA notices.
Then the pink envelope.
Then Marcus's photographs.
“Brenda Whitmore is HOA president?”
“Yes.”
Maya leaned back.
“Any elected office?”
“No.”
“Running for one?”
Marcus frowned.
“I don't know.”
Maya searched quickly.
Then turned the laptop.
Brenda Whitmore had filed paperwork three months earlier to run for a vacant city council seat the following year.
Marcus stared.
Maya said:
“Well.”
“What?”
“This just got less about a garage.”
Over the next week, the case separated into two tracks.
Insurance moved slowly.
Police moved quietly.
Brenda moved loudly.
At an emergency HOA meeting she announced that Marcus was “weaponizing a family accident against neighborhood leadership.”
Marcus attended.
He sat in the back.
Brenda wore pink.
Again.
A rose cardigan over a white blouse.
Her blonde hair perfect.
Her voice controlled.
“We cannot allow personal disputes to destabilize this association.”
Marcus raised his hand.
Brenda ignored him.
Another board member called on him.
Marcus stood.
“I agree.”
Brenda stared.
Marcus continued:
“Which is why I'm asking you to recuse yourself from any HOA action involving my property while police investigate your son's collision.”
Murmurs.
Brenda's face hardened.
“There is no conflict.”
“Your attorney threatened claims against me.”
“That is private.”
“You're HOA president.”
“That doesn't remove my rights as a parent.”
“No.”
Marcus nodded.
“It creates a conflict.”
Board member James Porter, a retired judge, spoke.
“He's correct.”
Brenda turned.
“What?”
James removed his glasses.
“You should recuse from matters involving the Reed property until the dispute is resolved.”
Brenda looked betrayed.
“I have served this community for nine years.”
James nodded.
“Then you understand governance.”
She did not.
But the board voted.
Four to two.
Brenda recused.
Marcus left without speaking to her.
Outside, Tyler waited beside a dark SUV.
Alone.
Marcus stopped.
The teenager wore another expensive hoodie, this one black.