I was wrong.
The timing was hardly an accident. The hoods know, oh yes, they know, when my wife is out of town and the watchful eyes are fewer. They know as well that anything that happens on my exclusive watch reflects badly on me. Costs me respect where it matters.
So pretty much the first thing she saw when she got home was that Don Astrice had sent a couple of his goons to mess up our fully enclosed back porch. Plants dug up. Stuff tipped over. Casual yet directed mayhem.
Oh, it was a message all right. Just to make sure I understood it a single acorn was left out for me. "We go where we want to. We do what we please."
Needless to say I do not take kindly to this sort of thuggery. I immediately went to the corner of the garage that they usually use to chew their way in. Sure enough, daylight showing. I went over to get the chicken wire and tools to seal this off. And one of the little striped thugs streaked past me. I don't know which one it was. "Chip", "Dale" or "Alvin".