“Did Harry put in a written access request?” I asked.

Arthur lifted his coffee cup, took a slow sip, and put it back down without answering.

“If you take him on at the town level, Harry will drag you through civil court for three years,” Arthur said quietly.

“You’ve got a teenage daughter to raise by yourself on one corporate data auditor’s salary.

Have you really got seventy thousand dollars in cash for legal retainers?”

“The boundary marker is ninety-two inches from his asphalt curb,” I said.