Linda and her thugs had no idea what they'd started. The living room had transformed overnight. Gone were the family photos and decorative touches that made it homey. Instead, the walls were covered with timelines, photographs, and documents held up by blue painters tape. The coffee table disappeared under stacks of files and a laptop running multiple searches.
Reginald stood in the center of it all, his reading glasses perched on his nose as he connected red strings between photos on the wall. His old FBI badge sat on the table beside him, a reminder of who he was, what he was capable of. Malik watched from the doorway, his bruises still tender, but healing. The sight of his father in full investigator mode made his chest swell with pride. This wasn't the quiet, reserved dad who read the morning paper and tended his garden.
This was special agent Carter, the man who'd spent decades taking down criminals and exposing corruption. "Come here, son," Reginald called, not looking up from the document in his hand. "Let me show you something." Malik moved closer, studying the wall of evidence. There were photos of Rick and Dale's truck, screenshots of social media posts, and financial documents with highlighted sections.
See these bank statements? Regginald pointed to a series of numbers. Linda's been skimming from the HOA funds for years. Small amounts at first, then getting bolder. She's funneling money through a fake landscaping company.
How did you get those? Malik asked, impressed. HOA financial records are available to all homeowners. They just make it difficult to access them. Most people don't bother looking.
Reginald smiled grimly. Linda counted on that. He moved to another section of the wall where photos showed Rick and Dale at various gatherings. Men in tactical gear practicing with weapons. "Your attackers belong to a local militia group," Reginald explained.
They call themselves Community Defense Force. Linda's been paying them under the table with HOA money, claiming it's for legitimate security services. Malik felt a chill, remembering their rough hands, their hateful words. They're like, "What? Wannabe soldiers?
Dangerous cosplayers with real guns," Reginald corrected. "And Linda's given them authority they don't legally have. That's going to come back to bite her." He pulled up a chair and gestured for Malik to sit. "Watch this," he said, typing on the laptop.
Multiple windows opened, showing social media profiles, business records, and property documents. Linda presents herself as this perfect HOA president, defender of property values, Reginald continued. But look here. Three lawsuits from previous neighborhoods where she served on the board. All settled quietly, records sealed.
Malik leaned in, fascinated. You can find all this stuff. Knowledge is power, son. These people think they're untouchable because they control the local systems, the HOA, some cops, the neighborhood gossip network. But there's always a paper trail.
Always connections to be found. He pulled up another document. See this? Linda's husband's construction company got all the HOA maintenance contracts after she became president. No competitive bidding, inflated prices.