Simone stopped.
"You're early."
"So are you."
"I had a reason."
Brent looked at the folders in his hands.
"So did I."
Simone studied him.
Brent Callahan was a senior patrol officer, broad-shouldered and usually confident. Their professional relationship had never been particularly warm, but it had always been functional.
"What are those?"
"Complaints from Hawthorne Ridge."
Simone's expression changed.
"How many?"
"Four."
Daniel appeared behind her.
"Five," he said.
All three looked at each other.
Daniel held up his phone.
"I just got another."
Simone took the phone.
The complaint concerned the same strip of municipal land shown in the document delivered to her home.
Someone was attempting to have the green space transferred into private ownership.
And someone had apparently decided that Simone Carter was standing in the way.
She looked at Brent.
"Who filed the complaints?"
"Elaine Mercer."
Simone's stomach tightened.
Elaine was a longtime resident of Hawthorne Ridge. She had lived there for decades and knew practically everyone.
"What does she want?"
Brent opened the first folder.
"She claims the city has been mismanaging the property."
"And the others?"
"Same basic complaint."
Daniel stepped closer.
"Except there's a problem."
Simone looked at him.
"What?"
"The four complaints have different signatures."
"So?"
Daniel turned his phone around.
"The wording is almost identical."
Simone read the screenshots.
Her expression hardened.
This wasn't a neighborhood disagreement.
Someone had created a campaign.
Someone was building a paper trail.
And judging by the envelope waiting on Simone's door that morning, the campaign had just become personal.
She picked up her coat.
"Let's go to Hawthorne Ridge."
Brent frowned.
"Why?"
"Because whoever is doing this thinks the paperwork will scare us."
She looked at the document again.
"They made one mistake."
"What mistake?"
Simone placed the photocopy inside an evidence sleeve.
"They left a trace."
And for the first time that morning, Brent Callahan looked genuinely concerned.
Because he knew Simone Carter well enough to understand what happened when she found a trace.
She followed it.
No matter where it led.
By noon, Simone had established that the document delivered to her house had been copied from an authentic municipal filing.
But the copy had been altered.
A single paragraph had been removed.
That paragraph changed everything.
The original record stated that the land behind Hawthorne Ridge Drive had been placed under permanent public protection.
The altered version suggested that the restriction had expired.
Someone wanted private developers to believe they had a legal opening.