Brown work shoes.
He looked like a retired man who had spent most of his life outdoors and had no intention of changing that now.
He entered my garage as casually as someone entering a tool shed.
Went straight to the golf cart.
Climbed in.
Turned the key.
I walked outside.
The man saw me.
He smiled and raised one hand.
"Afternoon."
"Afternoon."
"You the new caretaker?"
I stopped.
"The what?"
"Caretaker."
"I'm the owner."
He nodded pleasantly.
Not startled.
Not embarrassed.
Just absorbing new information.
"Okay."
He reversed the golf cart.
The backup alarm made a cheerful electronic chirp.
He hit the remote.
My garage door started closing.
I stepped closer.
"Excuse me."
He stopped the cart.
"Yeah?"
"How did you get a remote to my garage?"
He looked at the device in his hand as though the answer were obvious.
"Trish."
"Patricia Voss?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Community storage."
He pointed back at the closing garage.
"Everybody uses it."
The door shut between us.
The man smiled.
"Name's Dale, by the way."
"Thomas."
"Nice meeting you."
Then he drove away in the golf cart.
He waved once over his shoulder.
I stood on my driveway.
I realized then that Patricia was not the whole problem.
She was simply the first person I could name.
The next morning I walked across the street carrying two mugs of coffee.
The house opposite mine belonged to Dale and his wife.
Single-story ranch.
American flag on a pole.
Two ceramic geese beside the front steps dressed in matching seasonal clothing.
Dale came outside before I reached the mailbox.
He was that kind of neighbor.
"Coffee?"
I held one out.
"Always."
We sat on the low brick wall beside his driveway.
I asked:
"The golf cart belongs to the HOA?"
"Sure."
"And the stuff in the garage?"
"Most of it."
"Why is it in my garage?"
Dale took a sip.
"Well, because that's where community storage is."
"No."
I looked at him.
"That's where my garage is."
He frowned.
"Sure."
"But Trish said the association bought that house after the Delgados left."
"Held it while the market recovered."
"Used the garage in the meantime."
I stared at him.
"When did the Delgados leave?"
"Three years ago."
"I bought the house from the Bakers."
He blinked.
"The Bakers?"
"The couple I bought it from."
Dale thought.
"Maybe renters."
"They owned it."
He looked uncomfortable.
"Well."
"Before them?"
"Linda somebody."