Brenda stopped just a few feet away from Thomas, her posture rigid and combative. She pointed a manicured finger directly at the back of his head.
"Pack your gear and get off HOA water," Brenda barked, her shrill voice echoing across the quiet lake. "You've been trespassing long enough."
Thomas didn't flinch. He didn't raise his voice or show a single ounce of intimidation. He simply stood up, his tall, sturdy frame casting a long shadow in the early morning sun. He didn't even look at her; instead, he cast his gaze out over the misty waters, his expression a mix of nostalgia and mild annoyance.
"I've fished this spot for 23 years," Thomas said, his voice a low, steady rumble that commanded natural respect.
Brenda scoffed, her face turning a vibrant shade of red. She hated being ignored, and she absolutely despised being defied. She spun around to face the young deputy standing awkwardly by the patrol vehicle.
"Not anymore," Brenda snapped, pointing viciously back at Thomas. "Arrest him next time he comes back."