The chair beneath the blue umbrella was empty now.
Then she noticed the paperback.
Marcus had left it on the small side table.
She picked it up.
The spine was cracked, pages soft from repeated reading.
A white index card slipped out.
Eleanor caught it.
Six handwritten words crossed the front.
DO NOT TRUST THE CAMERAS.
She stared.
Then slowly looked toward the black camera mounted beneath the clubhouse roof.
For eleven years, those cameras had made her feel safe.
For the first time, she wondered who else they made powerful.
Chapter Two: The Lawyer Harold Didn’t Want
Marcus Reed was not merely a lawyer.
He was a federal litigator.
He had spent fourteen years handling civil cases involving fraud, land disputes, financial misconduct, government contractors, and institutional corruption. He did not work for the federal government, despite the way people often misunderstood the title. He represented clients in complex federal litigation, frequently in cases involving entities wealthy enough to assume ordinary people could not afford to fight them.
Margaret Bell could not afford him.
Marcus represented her anyway.
He had known Margaret for years because Ava’s grandmother on her mother’s side had once worked with her at a county historical society. When Margaret called and told him someone was trying to quietly take property she had owned for more than fifty years, Marcus initially assumed it was an ordinary title dispute.
Then somebody tampered with county records.
After that, it stopped being ordinary.
Harold Vance was waiting in the clubhouse conference room.
Sixty-one.
Silver hair.
Dark suit despite the Saturday afternoon.
A controlled smile.
“Mr. Reed.”
“Mr. Vance.”
They shook hands.
Harold looked toward Ava.
“My daughter.”
Marcus explained.
“She’ll wait with security.”
Daniel took her toward the reception desk.
Marcus entered the conference room alone.
Through the glass wall outside, Eleanor watched.
She had told herself she was waiting for the police.
That was partly true.
Mostly, she wanted to know why a federal attorney was meeting the HOA president about property records.
Daniel returned.
“You should go home.”
Eleanor turned.
“Why?”
“Because this has nothing to do with you.”
“I called the police on him.”
“That was your decision.”
Eleanor ignored the criticism.
“What’s he investigating?”
Daniel’s face changed.
“I don't know.”
“You just said property records.”
“That’s all I know officially.”
“Unofficially?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Three weeks ago, we had a security breach.”
Eleanor’s attention sharpened.
“What kind?”
“Administrator-level access.”
“To what?”
“The camera system.”
“Who accessed it?”
“We don’t know.”
“What did they do?”
“Downloaded footage.”
“From where?”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“Every camera in Bellwood.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“How long?”
“Approximately four hours.”
“And nobody told residents?”
“Harold said we didn't know whether anything had actually been compromised.”
“So he kept it quiet.”
“Yes.”
Eleanor looked through the glass.
Marcus had opened a thick folder.
Harold leaned forward.
Eleanor whispered:
“Does Marcus know?”
“I assume.”
The conference-room door opened.
Harold stepped out.
He saw Eleanor immediately.
“Why are you still here?”
She folded her arms.
“I heard about the security breach.”
Harold turned toward Daniel.
Daniel said nothing.
Harold’s irritation showed for only a moment.
Then Marcus appeared behind him.
“Perhaps she should stay.”
Harold turned.
“Why?”
Marcus looked at Eleanor.
“She’s a board member.”
“Advisory committee.”
“Close enough to have received some of the property reports.”
Eleanor felt both flattered and worried.
They returned to the conference room.
Marcus placed an old survey on the table.
“This is Bellwood before the final development phase.”
Harold stared.
“I’m familiar with it.”
Marcus pointed toward a parcel behind the recreation complex.
“The orchard.”
“Yes.”
“Who owns it?”
“The HOA.”
Marcus opened another document.
“According to this deed?”