“I'd rather have an officer explain who has authority to cut this cable.”
Linda's confidence returned.
“You'll regret this.”
Jamal didn't answer.
Because at that moment, the cable went slack.
His internet connection disappeared.
The router inside his house flashed red.
Jamal looked down.
The bolt cutters were still open.
But the protective coating around the fiber line had a fresh indentation.
Linda had squeezed them.
Not enough to sever the cable completely.
Enough to damage it.
Jamal slowly raised his phone.
“You just damaged it.”
Linda folded her arms.
“No. I inspected it.”
“You squeezed it with bolt cutters.”
“I did what was necessary.”
Jamal looked toward Martha.
She was still watching.
Then he looked at the security camera mounted beneath his porch roof.
It had recorded everything.
“Okay,” Jamal said.
Linda smiled.
“Finally.”
“No.”
He stepped backward.
“Finally, we have evidence.”
The sound of sirens came from the end of the street.
Linda's smile disappeared.
Jamal hadn't called them.
At least, not yet.
Someone else had.
And within minutes, two patrol officers would walk into Brookstone Ridge and discover that the cable was only the beginning.
The patrol SUV stopped in front of Jamal's house.
Officer David Mills stepped out first.
Officer Tasha Green followed.
Neither officer looked rushed.
Neither looked impressed.
They simply observed.
The open utility box.
The damaged cable.
Jamal standing on his lawn with his phone in his hand.
And Linda Mercer standing beside the equipment with bolt cutters.
Officer Mills approached.
“Who called?”
Linda immediately raised her hand.
“I did.”
Mills looked at her.
“You called us?”
“Yes. This homeowner is interfering with an HOA enforcement action.”
Mills glanced at Jamal.
“Is that accurate?”
“No.”
Linda interrupted.
“He has repeatedly violated association rules.”
Mills pointed toward the bolt cutters.
“Before we get into the history, why are you holding those?”
Linda hesitated.
“They are mine.”
“I didn't ask who owns them.”
Her expression tightened.
“I was correcting an exterior violation.”
Officer Green crouched beside the utility box.
She examined the cable.
“Did you cut this?”
“No.”
“Did you damage it?”
Linda folded her arms.
“I inspected it.”
Green looked closely at the indentation.
“This looks like pressure from a cutter.”
Linda didn't answer.
Jamal held up his phone.
“I have video.”
Mills looked at him.
“Can I see it?”
Jamal nodded.
The recording began.
Linda entering the yard.
Linda opening the enclosure.
Linda removing the cutters from her SUV.
Linda placing them around the cable.
Then the connection dropping.
The video continued.
Linda's voice was unmistakable.
She had warned Jamal that he could be fined, trespassed, and removed from the neighborhood.
Mills watched until the end.
Then he looked at Linda.
“What exactly did you mean by removed?”
“Through HOA procedures.”
“You told him he'd be trespassed from his own property.”
“I meant removed from the community.”
Mills looked around.
“This is his property.”
Linda's face became red.
“You don't understand how an HOA works.”
Green stood.
“Maybe not. But I understand how private property works.”
Jamal said nothing.
He had learned that silence was often more useful than arguing.
Mills asked Linda for the written authorization allowing her to alter the cable.
Linda reached into her vehicle.
She produced a folder.
Inside were printed violation notices.
Mills flipped through them.
“These are notices.”
“Yes.”
“Where's the authorization?”
Linda hesitated.
“The notices constitute authorization.”
“They don't.”
She stared at him.
“You're making this more complicated than it needs to be.”
Mills closed the folder.
“No. You are.”
Linda's phone vibrated.
She looked down.
For the first time, Jamal noticed how quickly she turned the screen away.
Green noticed too.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Can I see it?”
Linda immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Green nodded.
“You don't have to consent.”
Linda relaxed slightly.
Then another notification appeared.
This time, the screen remained visible for a second.
Jamal caught only part of the message.
Maple Lane.
Wait until dark.
He frowned.
“That's another address.”
Linda looked at him.
“You're imagining things.”
Jamal looked at Officer Mills.
“Ask her about Maple Lane.”
Linda snapped.
“There is nothing to ask.”
Mills' attention shifted.
“Why is Maple Lane appearing in a message related to an HOA enforcement matter?”
“It's association business.”
“What's happening at Maple Lane?”
Linda said nothing.
Green looked at Jamal.
“Do you know that address?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the homeowners complained to me last month.”
“What about?”
Jamal hesitated.
“A damaged irrigation controller.”
Linda's face became rigid.
Green looked back at her.
“Did the HOA report that damage?”
“No.”
“Did you know about it?”
Linda didn't answer.
Mills radioed dispatch.
“Run recent property-damage calls connected to Brookstone Ridge.”
The answer came back within minutes.
There had been several.
A damaged fiber line.
A severed lighting cable.
An irrigation controller.
A broken mailbox sensor.