The Homeowner stared.
The officer repeated:
“Turn around.”
She did not.
Instead she pulled the electronic device from her bag.
The Homeowner stepped back.
The officer immediately said:
“Put that down.”
She held it tightly.
“It’s just a signal tester.”
The Homeowner’s eyes narrowed.
“Signal tester.”
“Yes.”
The officer held out his hand.
“Place it on the ground.”
She looked toward the broken window.
Then the drone.
Then police.
For one strange second, the Homeowner saw her decision happen.
She pressed a button.
The drone shook.
Its lights flickered.
The smart display went black.
The neighbors gasped.
The officer lunged forward.
The HOA President turned and ran.
She made it six steps.
The second officer caught her right arm.
She twisted.
The first took her left.
“Hands behind your back.”
“LET GO!”
“Stop resisting.”
“I AM THE HOA PRESIDENT!”
“Hands behind your back.”
Metal cuffs clicked shut.
The device fell into the grass.
The Homeowner stared.
The first officer picked it up with a gloved hand.
Small screen.
Frequency numbers.
A strength meter.
The officer looked toward the drone.
Its connection recovered.
The display restarted.
“Looks like a jammer.”
The HOA President shouted:
“It is maintenance equipment.”
“For what?”
“Testing security interference.”
The Homeowner said:
“On my cameras?”
She turned.
“You installed them without architectural approval.”
The Homeowner stared.
There it was.
Not denial.
Justification.
The officer heard it too.
He looked toward his partner.
“Bag the device.”
The HOA President began shouting about attorneys.
Board authority.
Illegal surveillance.
Her constitutional rights.
Nobody argued.
The officers placed her in the back of the cruiser.
The Homeowner stood beside the broken window.
For the first time since hearing the crash, he felt the anger leaving.
Not relief.
Something else.
Exhaustion.
The neighbor with the phone approached.
“You okay?”
He looked at the hole behind him.
“Ask me after I replace the window.”
She smiled weakly.
Then:
“She has done things like this before.”
The Homeowner turned.
“What?”
The neighbor looked toward the police cruiser.
“Not rocks.”
“What then?”
“Threats.”
“Fake violations.”
“She changed photographs in a complaint against us last year.”
The Homeowner frowned.
“What photographs?”
“Our fence.”
“She claimed it was six inches too tall.”
“It wasn't.”
“She submitted a picture.”
“Different house.”
The Homeowner stared.
“Did you prove it?”
“Yes.”
“Eventually.”