In the days that followed, investigators sought judicial authorization for searches of Holt's accounts, his office records, and the developer's relevant business files. Court orders also required preservation of communications and financial documents that might otherwise disappear. The prosecutors coordinated with independent officers outside Holt's command and considered the safety of witnesses such as Delgado and Mrs. Carter. No one asked the Brooks family to participate in enforcement operations. Williams made clear that their role was to tell the truth and protect their own safety, not to confront suspects.
A week before the arrests, Angela found Mrs. Carter on the porch trying to repair a loose railing. She took the screwdriver from the older woman with a smile and finished the job while Mrs. Carter complained that Herbert would have used a better tool. They talked about recipes, a grandson's upcoming visit, and whether the roses needed more water. For almost an hour they did not mention Holt, the developer, or the FBI.
As Angela crossed home afterward, she realized how much she had missed conversations that did not revolve around being threatened. The criminal case mattered enormously, but it could not be allowed to consume the very life she was trying to protect. She made dinner with Marcus that evening and refused to check her messages for two full hours. It felt surprisingly difficult. It also felt like a beginning.
The next morning began with a call from Diana at six fifteen. She said several law enforcement vehicles had been seen near the developer's temporary field office at the far end of Brookside Street. She did not know what operation was under way and told Angela not to approach. Angela went to the front window anyway. Beyond the quiet houses, dark unmarked vehicles were pulling up in an orderly line, and people in federal identification jackets were speaking with a representative at the field office door.
The sight was nothing like the ten cruisers that had arrived for Angela. There were no sirens, no loud claims about people not belonging on the street. The agents moved with deliberate purpose, and residents watched from porches without being ordered to disappear. Angela felt Marcus come to stand beside her. He put a hand gently against the small of her back.
"Is this it?" he asked.
"I don't know," Angela answered. She looked toward Mrs. Carter's house, where the porch light was still glowing in the early morning. "But whatever happens, we stay here. Let them do their jobs."
They stepped onto their porch and waited. A few minutes later a familiar police cruiser came around the bend too quickly for the residential street. Captain Darren Holt was behind the wheel, uniformed despite his removal from operational command. He must have learned that investigators were on Brookside. He stopped in front of the field office, opened his door, and strode toward the agents with the same confidence he had carried into Angela's yard.