THE SLEDGEHAMMER AT LOT FORTY-TWO
Chapter I: The Sledgehammer on the Windshield
The quiet of the evening on Palmetto Drive shattered with a deafening, explosive crack of tempered glass.
Standing inside Marcus’s illuminated garage with a full-sized industrial sledgehammer raised above her shoulder was Brenda, dressed in her signature bright pink velour tracksuit. With her teeth bared in vindictive fury, she swung the heavy iron head down once more into the hood and windshield of a pristine royal-blue Lamborghini Huracán.
Glass spiderwebbed in violent fractures across the windscreen, and the custom carbon-fiber hood buckled beneath the blow.
Marcus sprinted in from the driveway, his eyes blazing with shock and fury.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Marcus roared, stopping just short of the shattered hood.
Brenda rested the heavy sledgehammer against her hip, breathing heavily, a crazed, self-satisfied grin spreading across her face.
"I warned you to get this damn car out of my neighborhood!" Brenda screeched. "Loud exhausts and ostentatious displays violate Section 4 of the architectural covenants!"
"That car is worth three hundred thousand dollars!" Marcus yelled, gesturing at the ruined supercar.