Now Marlene had driven a commercial truck straight across the boundary she claimed mattered so much.
I pressed Call.
A man answered.
I introduced myself.
“I got your number from a friend several months ago.”
“How can I help?”
I looked through the kitchen window.
The concrete truck was still outside.
“My neighbor filled my swimming pool with concrete this morning.”
Silence.
Then:
“I’m sorry?”
“She used her husband’s construction-company truck.”
“Did they have permission to enter your property?”
“No.”
“Did you authorize any work?”
“No.”
“Do you have evidence?”
I looked at my phone.
“Video.”
“What does it show?”
“The truck.”
“License plate.”
“Company logo.”
“My neighbor.”
“Her husband.”
“And Marlene admitting she wanted the pool destroyed because she thinks my children are too loud.”
Another pause.
Then his voice became very serious.
“Do not touch the pool.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not alter anything.”
