Chapter 5 - The Lockout
I did not go back inside immediately. I walked to a nearby coffee shop, sat in a corner booth, and made two very important phone calls. The first was to a 24-hour locksmith I had used for my company’s office building. The second was to the local police precinct's non-emergency line. I explained the situation carefully to the dispatcher. I had unwanted guests attempting to establish unauthorized tenancy, they had not been there longer than a few days, and I had proof of homeownership. The dispatcher advised me that it was a civil matter unless they refused to leave upon formal request by the property owner, at which point it could become trespassing. That was all I needed to hear. I walked back to my house. Before going to the front door, I walked over to the rhododendron bush near the porch. I reached down and found the hollow plastic rock. I flipped it over. The spare silver key was resting in the dirt. I picked it up, dropped it into my purse, and crushed the plastic rock under my heel. Then, I waited on the porch. At exactly 4:00 PM, the locksmith’s van pulled into my driveway. Madison opened the front door, looking annoyed at the sound of the vehicle. She saw me standing on the porch with a man carrying a heavy toolbag. "What is going on?" she demanded. "I'm changing the locks," I said simply. "You can't do that! Dad isn't even home!" "I don't need your father's permission to secure my property." I turned to the locksmith. "Every exterior door, please. Front, back, and garage access." Madison's face flushed bright red. "Evan!" she screamed. Evan came running down the stairs. "What's happening?" "She's changing the locks!" Madison yelled. Evan stormed out onto the porch, towering over me. "You can't lock us out. We live here. We have rights." "You have been here for three days," I said, my voice steady. "You are guests. Unwelcome ones. And your stay is over." "We aren't leaving," Evan snarled, stepping closer to me in an attempt to be intimidating. I didn't flinch. "I knew you'd say that," I replied. Right on cue, a black and white patrol car turned the corner and cruised slowly up our street, pulling to a stop right behind the locksmith's van.
