Chapter 1: “You Don’t Own This House”
“GET AWAY FROM MY DRIVEWAY! I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE DOING!”
The shout stopped Daniel Harper beside his black SUV.
He had barely stepped away from the driver’s door when the woman came toward him, pointing furiously at the vehicle. She was in her early sixties, powerfully built, with a cobalt-blue blouse stretched beneath a black-and-white cardigan, mustard-yellow pants, and worn white sneakers. Her short, frizzy dark-purple hair was streaked with silver.
A wooden baseball bat hung at her side.
Daniel’s eyes went to it for half a second before returning to her face.
He did not move toward her.
“Your driveway?” he said. “You don’t even own this house.”
The woman jabbed a finger toward the SUV.
“I DON’T HAVE TO OWN IT TO DECIDE WHO GETS TO PARK HERE!”
Daniel stared at her.
There was no confusion in his voice when he answered.
“Then who does?”
Her expression hardened.
“That’s none of your business.”
Daniel glanced toward the house.
It was a normal suburban property with a closed garage, a neat lawn, and a driveway that led directly from the street to the garage. Nothing about it suggested that anyone other than the homeowner controlled who could use it.
The woman raised her phone.
Daniel immediately took out his own.
“I’ll move the car if the owner asks me to,” he said. “Not because you say so.”
Her face tightened.
“If you won’t move that car, I’ll make sure nobody in this neighborhood lets you park here again!”
Daniel looked from her phone to the bat still hanging harmlessly at her side.
He had no intention of escalating the encounter.
But he also wasn’t going to surrender simply because someone had arrived angry enough to demand it.
“Call whoever you think you need to call,” he said.
She stared at him.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Daniel looked past her toward the house again.
The question was no longer whether she was angry.
It was whether she had any authority at all.
And if she didn’t, Daniel knew the next step would have to be proving it.
