The house looked dark, abandoned. Graves smirked. Easy money, he thought. He hopped the low fence and crept around to the side of the house where the gas meter was located. His instructions were specific. Find a leak. If you can’t find one, make one. Graves knelt in the mud. He pulled out a heavy wrench. He wasn’t going to cause an explosion.

Just enough damage to release the smell of mercaptan, enough to get a reading on his meter that would justify an immediate emergency condemnation order. Once that red sticker was on the door, the fire department would evacuate the premises, and under city Ordinance 114-102, no one could inhabit the structure until repairs were made. Repairs that Apex Horizon would ensure never happened.

He clamped the wrench onto the valve. He applied pressure. The metal groaned. Snap. A small hiss of gas escaped. The smell of rotten eggs filled the air immediately. Graves pulled out his gas detector. It beeped wildly. He snapped a photo of the reading with his phone. Then he pulled out the bright orange sticker. Danger. Do not enter. Condemned. He slapped it onto the front door. Job done, Graves whispered. He turned to leave, walking back toward the fence.

Click. A floodlight blinded him. It came from the tree line of the neighbor’s yard. Graves threw his hands up, dropping his wrench. Who’s there? Silence. Then a second light flicked on from the porch of the house across the street. Then a third from the roof of the Banks house itself. He was illuminated like a performer on a stage. Inspector Graves, a voice projected from the darkness. It wasn’t a shout.

It was amplified by a speaker system. You just violated Georgia code 16-7-23, criminal damage to property in the second degree. And code 16-5-60, reckless conduct. Graves squinted against the glare. Police? I’m city enforcement. I’m doing my job. No, the voice said. It was Julian. You’re doing Richard Sterling’s job. From the shadows of the porch, Julian Banks stepped out. He was holding a high-definition video camera. Next to him stood a woman in a police uniform, but she wasn’t a patrol officer. She wore the gold badge of the major crimes unit.