But Brenda had her own devious plan. As I later found out, about ten minutes after she broke in, she decided to call 911 herself to establish a paper trail as the "victim." She told the dispatcher a frantic story: she claimed she and her kids were at the "community pool" and that a deranged, threatening neighbor was harassing them through hidden speakers and making them feel unsafe.
I pulled onto my street just in time to see two police cruisers blocking my driveway. I parked on the curb and ran toward my house. Brenda was standing in my front yard, wrapped in a towel, performing a masterclass in fake crying. She was pointing at my house, surrounded by her friends who were nodding along to her fabricated story.
"Officers, thank god you're here!" Brenda wailed. "That's him! That's the man! He locked the gate to the community pool to keep the neighborhood children out, and when we finally got in, he started screaming at us and threatening my kids!" The two officers turned to look at me, their hands resting cautiously on their duty belts. "Sir, we need you to step back," the older officer commanded. "Are you the homeowner?" "I am," I said calmly. "And that woman broke into my backyard."
Brenda’s smugness was palpable. She smirked at me from behind the officers. "He's lying! The HOA owns that pool. I'm the president, I have the authority to be there. Arrest him for harassment!"