“Victor’s truck was at the empty Caldwell house three times last month,” she said.

The Caldwell house had stood vacant since its owner moved to assisted living.

A property manager visited occasionally, but nobody lived there.

Alma said Victor had opened the side gate after dark on two of those visits.

She remembered because his crew had parked against her driveway and blocked her grandson’s car.

I asked whether she had reported it.

She hadn’t known there was anything to report.

Landscapers routinely entered unoccupied properties to prevent overgrowth.

What bothered her was that Victor had spent time beside the pool even though the Caldwell property didn’t have one.

“There’s an old drainage trench behind their garage,” she said.

“He had a flashlight down there.”

I knew the trench.

It connected the low point of several backyards to a culvert near the walking trail.

During heavy storms, water from our street moved through that system.

Ben had been concerned about it when we installed our pool because poor grading could send runoff toward our foundation.

Alma touched the edge of her plate.

“Gloria has been saying your pool is causing flooding,” she told me.

I looked up sharply.

I had heard her complain about pump noise and children visiting, but never about flooding.

Alma said Gloria had recently circulated a petition demanding that some homeowners pay for drainage improvements.

The affected addresses included mine, the Caldwell property, and four houses near the creek.

I asked her to bring me a copy if she had one.

Alma promised she would look through her papers.

After she left, I opened the property folder Ben kept in his desk.

Among our original construction plans was a drawing of the drainage trench.

A handwritten note in Ben’s neat block letters read, “Do not let anyone cover this access.”

I had not thought about that warning in years.

CHAPTER 8: THE INVOICE WITH TWO DATES

Monday morning brought a letter from Victor’s office before the police report was even available.

It was delivered by a courier and marked as a service proposal, not an invoice.

The amount had increased by six hundred dollars to account for an alleged drainage inspection.

The proposal said the work had been requested by the neighborhood committee.

I called Elaine and asked whether the committee had authorized a contractor.

She said no.

Then she asked me to forward a photograph of the proposal because the committee’s name was being used without permission.

I sent her the entire document.