MY NEIGHBOR DUMPED A BUCKET OF PAINT OVER MY CAR AT 2 A.M. — BY BREAKFAST, THREE POLICE CARS WERE OUTSIDE HER HOUSE

“Yes.”

He stared at the red paint. “Don’t wash it.”

Another officer emerged from Linda’s garage with a half-empty paint can. “Well,” I said, “there’s my proof.”

Neither officer smiled. “This isn’t about your car.”

He asked when I’d bought it. “Three years ago. Why?”