The unfairness didn’t make me want revenge. It made me want to make sure the business could keep its doors open no matter who was trying to embarrass me.

So we answered the reviews without speculation, kept our records clean, and did the jobs on the schedule. I still went home after sunset, but I no longer mistook my house for the place where work ended.

CHAPTER NINE — The Party on the Corner

The night before the vandalism, the Hargroves hosted a party. Music carried over the back fences, and cars filled both sides of the street. I didn’t mind parties. People were entitled to celebrate in their own homes. What I minded was discovering a crowd of teenagers near my driveway when I went out to bring in a package.

Dylan stood beside my garage door with Brooke and several friends. He’d had enough to drink that his voice was louder than usual. He pointed toward the garage as I approached.

“Tell them,” he said. “Tell them you won’t even let me ride in it.”

“I don’t need to explain my car to anybody,” I replied.

A girl I didn’t know looked embarrassed. One of the boys laughed as if he wasn’t sure whether a joke had been made.

Dylan stepped closer. “My mom says you act like you’re better than everybody here.”

“Your mother is entitled to her opinion.”

“She says that car doesn’t fit the neighborhood.”

“It’s inside my garage, Dylan. You’re the one bringing people here to see it.”

His friends fell quiet. For a moment he looked younger than nineteen, offended that his performance wasn’t working.

“You should just sell it,” he said.

“Good night.”

I walked back inside and locked the door. A minute later I heard a dull thump from outside. Through the window I saw Dylan kick a loose planter near the sidewalk. Brooke pulled him toward the party, saying something I couldn’t make out.

At eleven twenty, Arthur called.

“Just wanted to tell you there are kids walking around the street,” he said. “I saw one looking under the Hargroves’ porch.”

“Thanks, Arthur.”

“My camera caught them on the sidewalk. I’ll keep the file.”

“Appreciate it.”

He hesitated. “Malcolm, I remember when kids used to fool around and somebody’s father would make them sweep the street the next morning. Now everybody’s afraid to tell them no.”

I heard the party through the phone. It seemed suddenly very far away.

Before bed, I checked that the garage was locked. I set the security system to record. The camera above my garage had a blind spot near the side gate, one I’d been meaning to correct. I’d put it off because the replacement unit was waiting in the shop office.

The irony later would be hard to miss. I owned a business that installed advanced cameras around vehicles worth millions, yet at home I’d allowed one little piece of unfinished work to wait another weekend.

I went to sleep believing the worst thing that might happen would be another anonymous complaint.

At six fifteen the following morning, I woke to a faint metallic sound from the driveway.

I lay still, listening.

There was another noise. A soft scrape, followed by laughter.

I told myself it was a garbage truck, a neighbor unloading tools, anything ordinary. Then I smelled something unfamiliar through the open kitchen window.