Loretta Voss, the neighbor who had called 911, was sitting in her living room. The news was on.
The headline read, "Oak Haven Police Ring Exposed. Veteran Framed in Asset Theft Scheme."
Loretta felt a cold knot in her stomach. She had thought she was protecting the neighborhood.
She had thought she was doing her civic duty.
But as she watched the footage of Dez, calm, polite, compliant, contrasted with the footage of Harlan trying to plant drugs, her worldview cracked.
She realized she had been the weapon. The police knew she was a nosy neighbor.
They relied on her calls to give them the pretext they needed to arrive and harass people. She wasn't a guardian.
She was a pawn in a criminal enterprise.
Her phone rang. It was her daughter calling from college.
"Mom." The daughter's voice was shaky.
"Is that— Is that our street on CNN? Did you call the cops on that guy?"
"I— I thought he was stealing the car," Loretta stammered.
"Mom, he owns the house. Everyone online is talking about the lady in the window.
They're calling you a monster. How could you?"
Loretta hung up. She looked out the window.
Across the street, the lights were on in 422 Maple Ridge. Dez was home.
She saw him walking past the window. He stopped and looked directly at her house.
He didn't wave. He didn't glare.
He just looked.
Loretta closed the curtains, her hands shaking. She would eventually put her house on the market weeks later, unable to bear the shame of living across from the man she had tried to destroy.
Back at the house, Dez was sitting on his couch, a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. The house was quiet again.
The media had been dispersed by the arrival of the military police, who were now providing a courtesy watch over the property. It was a not-so-subtle warning to the local police department to stay away.
The doorbell rang. Dez checked the monitor.
It was Captain Thorn. He was alone.
He wasn't in uniform. He looked like a ghost.
Dez walked to the door and opened it. He didn't invite Thorn in.
"Mr. Kane," Thorn said, his voice raspy.
"I— I wanted to come personally before they arrest me."
Dez finished the sentence. Thorn nodded.
"The FBI is at my house. They gave me five minutes to say goodbye to my wife.
I came here first."
"Why?" Dez asked.
"To ask why you didn't just show us the military ID immediately, before Harlan got out of the car," Thorn asked, a pathetic attempt to shift a fraction of the blame.
Dez laughed, a harsh sound.
"I tried, Captain, but you know what? It shouldn't have mattered.
I shouldn't need a top-secret clearance to be treated like a human being in my own driveway. I shouldn't need a colonel to save me from a patrolman.