The cyclist was already mid-rant: “I told you, he’s got these motion-activated traps! I was soaked—with pond water! It was freezing and filthy! There’s no warning—he rigged the whole thing like some kind of booby trap!”
The officers approached the porch, where Clarence stood waiting in his usual sweater and gardening gloves. Taffy was curled in the shade behind him. The older officer spoke first. “Sir, do you have an irrigation system on the back lawn?”
“Yes, officer. Motion-activated. Keeps deer out and helps water the beds. It’s old tech—nothing dangerous. Pulls from the garden pond. It’s… not filtered.” The younger officer stepped around the side of the house to take a look. Meanwhile, the cyclist added, “He’s targeting people, setting traps! It’s harassment—look at my clothes!”
The older officer held up a hand. “Let’s just take a look first.” Moments later, the younger officer returned. “Everything checks out. Tubing, standard sensors, sprinkler heads. There are two visible signs—one says ‘Private Property,’ the other says ‘Wet Zone – Detour.’ Nothing illegal.”