That evening, Sheriff Walt stopped by and told me the gate camera had caught two people at the entrance the previous night. Dad and Evan. My stomach dropped. “Could’ve been looking,” Walt said evenly. “Could’ve
been taking pictures. Could’ve been trying to figure out a way in.” He told me he would patrol more often. I thanked him. Then I went inside and checked every lock in the house.
The next morning I woke before dawn to motion alerts. Multiple sets of headlights at my gate. I opened the camera app and my breath caught. Dad. Evan. Linda. A man in a puffy coat holding a clipboard, clearly a realtor. And another man kneeling by the gate with a tool bag. A locksmith. They were not here to talk. They were here to take something.
I called Walt. He picked up immediately. “I’m on my way. Stay inside.” Then I called Rachel Monroe, Captain Monroe, my JAG friend and mentor. She answered calmly, told me to record everything and not to open the gate, and said she was heading my way. Through the camera feed I watched my father gesture grandly at the property,
