Karen stood.
“I will not sit here and be interrogated by my own board.”
Walter stood too.
“This is exactly the problem.”
The room went silent.
“You think it is your board.”
Karen stared at him.
Walter continued.
“It belongs to the homeowners.”
Karen dismissed the meeting twenty minutes later.
For the first time in six years, three board members left her house without waiting for her permission.
The contractor became the next weak point.
Mark found Harrison Earthworks working on a commercial drainage project across town.
The foreman was named Pete Harrison.
He was forty-six and owned the company with his brother.
Mark showed him county identification.
“Mr. Harrison, I need to discuss Cedar Hollow Lane.”
Pete’s face changed.
“The driveway?”
“Yes.”
Pete wiped his hands on his pants.
“I was told it was authorized.”
“By whom?”
“HOA president.”
“Karen Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“Did you obtain a county excavation permit?”
Pete looked away.
“No.”
“Why?”
“She told us association enforcement work didn’t require one.”
“Did you believe her?”
Pete hesitated.
“I’ve done smaller stuff for them.”
“What smaller stuff?”
Pete immediately regretted saying it.
Mark waited.
“Fence section.”
“Where?”
Pete named Gregory’s address.
“Anything else?”
“Landscape cleanup.”
“What kind?”
“Trees.”
Mark stopped writing.
“Whose trees?”
Pete rubbed his face.
“I need a lawyer, don’t I?”
Mark answered:
“That would be your decision.”
Pete called one before the interview continued.
Two days later, through counsel, Harrison Earthworks provided invoices.
Texts.
Work orders.
Messages.
Karen had been remarkably careless because she believed she was untouchable.
REMOVE ENTIRE DRIVE.
OWNER OUT OF TOWN UNTIL TUESDAY.
NEED COMPLETED BEFORE RETURN.
Another message:
NO COUNTY INVOLVEMENT NECESSARY. HOA ENFORCEMENT.
Another:
IF HE COMPLAINS, SEND HIM TO ME.
Daniel read that message in Rebecca’s office.
For the first time since coming home, he visibly lost some of his composure.
“She knew I was gone.”
Rebecca nodded.
“She scheduled it around your trip.”
Daniel stared at the printed text.
“That makes it worse.”
“Yes.”
“I thought maybe it just happened while I was away.”
“It didn’t.”
Daniel sat back.
He remembered casually mentioning the conference at a neighborhood gathering two weeks earlier.
Karen had been there.
She had asked how long he would be gone.
At the time, Daniel thought it was ordinary conversation.
Now it felt different.
Rebecca watched him.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“That is a reasonable answer.”
Daniel laughed once.
“I keep thinking I should be angrier.”
“You are angry.”
“I don’t feel like yelling.”
“That isn’t the only kind.”
Daniel looked at the photograph of his ruined driveway.
Rebecca said:
“Your job now is not to perform anger.”
“It is to preserve your position.”
He nodded.
The first repair estimate came in at $47,600.