“They tried to steal it before you even bought it,” Sarah said quietly.
That shifted everything.
Federal wire fraud. Forgery. Conspiracy.
We stopped playing defense.
Sarah explained the strategy over courthouse coffee that tasted like regret. “We need one more clean offense. Something undeniable.”
So we gave them bait.
A fake state agricultural inspection. Posted where gossip lived. Miller’s Hardware. The feed store. Talk of grant money. Cash.
Greed did the rest.
I hired a professional security firm. Cameras installed discreetly, certified timestamps, chain of custody locked tight. The FBI stepped in. Agent Patricia Santos took point, calm and precise.
Bob Tresic volunteered to play inspector. Retired. Credible. Perfect.
Friday morning, Bob rolled in with a borrowed state truck. Clipboard. Badge.
Within minutes, Brinley arrived.
Chadwick with her. Two men who looked like hired confidence.
“This property falls under HOA authority,” Brinley snapped. “You can’t inspect without our approval.”
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