Thirty-Six
"I own this building, and he broke in." Pete Malovitch bent down and grasped the old doorknob. His property rights had been trampled—by a guy no better than a homeless man. "Look, Sheriff. Look at this. Broken. It's obvious he broke in."
Sheriff Dennison knelt beside Pete and examined the doorframe. "Pete, this door is so old a squirrel could get in." He tapped on the old wood. "And they probably do." He brushed in the dirt with his fingers and held up a screw. "How do you even know that doorknob came from this building?" He stood, hands on his hips. He looked left and right along the alley. "There's so much garbage along here, how can you tell what came from where? How do you know it was him?"
Pete stood and faced Sheriff, eye to eye. "Because I watched him break in, that's
