The missing security cameras bothered me far more than the broken window ever had. Broken glass could be replaced and graffiti could be painted over.
A stolen security system meant someone had planned every step before they ever set foot on my property.
Trevor finished gathering his paperwork before shaking my hand.
“I’ll file everything this afternoon.” He said.
“Thank you.” I said.
“If the sheriff’s office finds anything I’ll be in touch.” Trevor said. I nodded, although I wasn’t expecting miracles.
The parking lot slowly emptied as the morning wore on. Trevor drove away first, George Miller climbed onto his restored Triumph and headed home and a few local customers stopped by to check whether the garage would still be open.
Every one of them looked relieved when I told them
