"Since the association completed its recovery process."
"He sold it?"
"The matter is more complicated than a sale."
"Court order?"
Her expression changed slightly. "Mr. Drayton, I appreciate your concern, but this does not involve you."
Calvin looked at the severed chain on the ground. "No, ma'am. It sure does not."
He went back across the road, photographed the cut lock when Trent later tossed it into a construction dumpster, and wrote down every plate he could see. He did not call the police because he was not certain whether Marissa actually had an order he did not know about. He did, however, call Duncan. The call went straight to voicemail because Duncan was inside a federal building where phones had been restricted for the morning.
"Duncan, Calvin. Crowley is at your warehouse with security and a locksmith. They cut the chain. I have video. Call me when you get this."
Duncan did not hear the message until late that evening. By then, the locksmith was gone and the new lock had been installed.
He called Calvin back immediately.
"Did they enter the building?"
"I saw them inside the bay."
"Police? Sheriff? Anyone official?"
"No."
"Did they damage anything besides the chain?"
"Not from where I can see. They put up a sign."
Duncan stood in a hotel room three counties away, listening to the hum of the heating unit beneath the window. His first impulse was to drive back immediately. His second was more disciplined. He called Renee.
"Do not confront them tonight," she said. "We need to know exactly what they claim to be acting under. Call local law enforcement and document it."
Duncan did. A desk deputy took the report and explained that if the association claimed a civil possession right, a responding officer might not remove anyone without reviewing documents. Duncan understood. He asked only that the report number be created and noted he would return Thursday afternoon.
The next morning, camera footage showed a rented box truck backing into Bay Two. Roughly thirty boxes, folding desks, printers, laptops, and two file cabinets were carried inside. Marissa supervised most of the transfer. At one point, she stood beneath the obvious loading-bay camera and pointed up.
"That needs to face away from the work area," she told Trent.
He climbed a ladder and pushed it sideways.
Neither of them noticed the higher camera.
Later that afternoon, Marissa entered the office. She tried the locked file cabinet, called Trent over, and stepped aside while he pried at the latch. The sound of bending metal carried clearly on the recording. They removed nothing obvious, but they opened drawers, shifted documents, and moved two external drives from the desk to a shelf.
"Anything about the road?" Marissa asked.