“How many?”
“Several contacts.”
I had never heard about them.
Megan checked.
One complaint alleged I had walked onto Gwen’s property during an argument.
False.
Another claimed Dana had repeatedly thrown yard waste near Gwen’s fence.
Also false.
Another described Grace as “aggressively confronting” Dylan near the street.
Grace had not spoken to Dylan since the accident.
Then:
A report that I had damaged one of Gwen’s security lights.
I hadn’t.
Nothing had resulted in charges.
Most were documented as neighborhood complaints.
That was exactly the point.
They existed.
Date.
Time.
Report number.
Conflict.
I felt sick.
Gwen was building a record showing our families were feuding.
Megan said:
“There’s another thing.”
“What?”
“Ms. Pritchard submitted photographs with two complaints.”
My mind immediately went to the camera footage.
“What photographs?”
“One showed objects near her boundary.”
“Another showed what she described as damage after a confrontation.”
Dana said:
“She created some of that.”
Megan looked at us.
“You have video?”
“Yes.”
“Save everything.”
We did.
Grace’s witness interview with Dylan’s defense investigator had been scheduled for the following week.
That timing mattered.
A subpoena related to the case had arrived at our house on April 22.
Gwen damaged the shed on April 25.
Three days.
I looked backward again.
Another legal notice had arrived March 31 asking Grace to preserve communications related to the incident.
April 1:
Our mailbox incident.
A prosecution follow-up interview happened April 12.
April 14:
Trash bin.
Every time the case moved forward, something happened at home.
Coincidence disappears slowly.
Then all at once.
I called the prosecutor’s victim-witness coordinator and explained what we were finding.
They told us not to confront Dylan.
Not to contact witnesses ourselves.
Keep evidence.
Report threats.
Standard advice.
Then we hired an attorney for our own family.
Not because Grace had done anything wrong.
Because the situation was becoming too complicated for me to trust my instincts.
Her name was Karen Liu.
She reviewed everything.
The videos.
Police reports.
Gwen’s threat.
The anonymous note.
Then she asked:
“Has anyone from Dylan’s defense contacted you claiming your family has a preexisting dispute with the Pritchards?”
“No.”
“Not yet.”
That last word mattered.
Two days later, they did.
Dylan’s defense investigator was named Robert Shaw.
Professional.
Polite.
Not the villain of anything.
He called Karen first.
He said Dylan’s legal team had been informed of “a longstanding neighbor conflict” that might affect Grace’s reliability.
Karen asked:
“Longstanding since when?”
Robert had a list.
February 3 — dispute concerning trash near boundary.
February 19 — conflict involving outdoor lights.
March 7 — alleged argument involving Scott Merritt.
March 18 — reported hostility from Grace.
That stopped us.
The accident happened March 21.
If the dates were accurate, Gwen had created records suggesting the feud began before Grace witnessed Dylan’s crash.
That could matter.
Grace’s testimony could be portrayed as retaliation from a hostile neighboring family.
But we had never had those conflicts.
The February incidents were invented or distorted.
How?
That answer was surprisingly simple.
Gwen had been planning a different dispute with us before the accident.
Not because she knew the accident would happen.
Because she had been complaining about our dog, basketball hoop, leaves, and noise for months.
Minor neighbor irritation.