The Lead Agent approached.
“You okay?”
The Homeowner stared at the damaged drainage.
“Yes.”
“You don't sound convinced.”
“My wife wanted me to call when it happened.”
“So call.”
He looked toward the gray sky.
“She hated this plan.”
“I know.”
“She said letting somebody damage the house on purpose was insane.”
“She may have a point.”
The Homeowner smiled faintly.
“Don't tell her.”
The Lead Agent nodded toward the evidence team.
“Repair crew can come after documentation.”
“Before the storm?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The Homeowner finally exhaled.
That mattered more than anything.
The plan had never been to let his house flood.
Investigators needed proof of deliberate damage.
Not catastrophic damage.
A licensed contractor had been waiting nearby.
By six thirty, the compromised section had been documented and replaced.
By seven fifteen, rain started.
Heavy.
The drainage worked.
Water moved exactly where it should.
The Homeowner stood beneath the patio roof watching it.
His phone rang.
His wife.
He answered.
“Done.”
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“House?”
“Fine.”
“Did she come?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“She really did it?”
“Yes.”
His wife exhaled.
The Homeowner could hear anger through the phone.
“I told you.”
“You did.”
“She walked into our house?”
“Rear entry.”
“And cut it?”
“Yes.”
“I hate that woman.”
“I know.”
“Are you allowed to say whether she's being arrested?”
“Not yet.”
“That's annoying.”
“Yes.”
His wife became quiet.
Then:
“Come here after you're done.”
“I will.”
“Don't stay because you think you need to be useful.”
He smiled.
“Married too long.”
“Yes.”
The call ended.
The Homeowner returned inside.
Coffee.
Finally.
He had barely poured it when the Lead Agent entered.
“We found something.”
The Homeowner looked up.
“What?”
The Lead Agent held a tablet.
“Tool serial number.”
The Homeowner frowned.
“And?”
“Purchased through a maintenance account.”
“HOA?”
“No.”
The Homeowner stared.
“Storm restoration contractor.”
That mattered.
The contractor had appeared in two previous cases.