novels about warships and forget to speak for an hour.
I walked the property after dark with a flashlight, checking each camera angle myself.
Dock.
Boathouse.
Side gate.
Driveway.
Front porch.
The big maple near the firepit had grown enough to block part of camera three, so I trimmed the low branch with one of Dad’s old hand saws from the garage. My palms continue reading …
