"You're offering me money to lie to federal investigators?"
"We're offering compensation for the stress our family dispute has caused you," Derek said smoothly, apparently having found his lawyer voice. "Nothing more, nothing less."
Dolores wasn't content with simple bribery. Her narcissism demanded she explain exactly how brilliant their scheme had been.
"Nathaniel, you have to understand, what we did here was genius. Pure business optimization applied to residential property management."
Derek shot her another warning look, but she was beyond caring about consequences.
"Seventeen targeted properties across Willowbrook. Average purchase price reduction, $47,000 per unit. Resale to appropriate demographics at market value within six months. Total profit per cycle approximately $68,000."
She was confessing to a multimillion-dollar conspiracy while trying to buy my silence.
"The beauty was the systematic approach," she continued, warming to her subject. "Identify undesirable residents. Document violations. Escalate enforcement until relocation becomes inevitable. Standard corporate acquisition technique."
Derek was sweating through his shirt now. "Dolores, please."
"No, Derek. I want him to understand this wasn't personal. It was business. Smart business."
I leaned against my workbench, letting the equipment capture every word.
"So the false police reports were part of the business plan?"
"Strategic enforcement escalation," she corrected with professional pride. "When HOA violations prove insufficient, municipal code enforcement becomes necessary. When that fails, law enforcement intervention becomes the final option."
"You mean lying to police about criminal activity?"
Her eyes flashed with righteous anger. "I mean protecting community investments from demographic degradation. Do you have any idea what a single motorcycle restoration operation does to surrounding property values?"
Derek grabbed her arm desperately. "Aunt Dolores, stop talking immediately."
But she shook him off, completely lost in her need to justify three months of harassment.
"Property values aren't abstract concepts, Nathaniel. They're mathematical calculations based on neighborhood demographics, noise levels, visual aesthetics, and resident behavioral patterns. Your garage workshop violated every optimization principle."
The taste of impending justice was sweet as fresh chrome polish.
"What about the other residents you targeted?"
"Case studies in demographic correction," she said with academic precision. "The single mother, excessive child noise depressed values in a 30-unit radius. The elderly widower, property maintenance deficiencies created visual blight. The landscaper, commercial vehicle traffic suggested zoning violations."
She was providing investigators with a detailed explanation of the very discriminatory system under investigation.
Derek made one last desperate attempt at damage control. "Nathaniel, what my aunt is describing are standard property management practices."
"Standard practices?" Dolores laughed bitterly. "Derek, show some backbone. What we accomplished here was revolutionary. Targeted demographic optimization through strategic enforcement escalation."
She pulled out her own phone, showing me what looked like a spreadsheet. "This documents our success rate. Fifteen families relocated. Average timeline, four months. Average property value improvement post-relocation, 67 percent. We perfected the methodology."
Derek looked ready to vomit. "Oh my God, Dolores, you kept records."
"Of course I kept records. This system could be franchised nationwide. HOA demographic optimization as a professional service. We were pioneers."
The garage door was open, carrying the distant sound of sirens. Not coming for us this time, but for the people confessing in my workspace.