Sure! Here’s a shorter version that keeps the tone and core meaning intact:
Jack and I had only been in the rental one night. Small place, quiet suburb, barely unpacked when the doorbell rang.
“Already?” Jack muttered.
At the door stood a woman in pink—Lindsey. Big smile, tray of perfect cookies, and eyes that couldn’t stop darting past us into the house.
“Welcome!” she chirped. “Quick thing—HOA rule. One car per driveway.”
We explained we were temporary. She didn’t care.
Three days later, two tow trucks showed up at dawn. Both our cars, mid-lift. Jack shouted. No warning, no notice.
Then we saw her. Lindsey. Lavender robe. Coffee mug. Smiling like she’d won.
I pointed to a nearly invisible sticker on our car’s back window. Her smile twitched.
“That mark?” I said quietly. “It’s going to cost you twenty-five grand.”
The next morning, a black SUV rolled up. A man in a suit flashed a badge at Lindsey.
“You interfered with an active federal operation,” he said. “You compromised two undercover agents.”
Her mug slipped and shattered.
“Next time,” Jack said, “don’t play sheriff.”
The agent warned her not to leave town.
I gave her one last look. “Just stick to the cookies.”
Let me know if you want an even tighter version or want to keep more detail!
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