Higher than the original driveway.
Why?
Because demolition had damaged more than the surface.
The subbase needed to be reconstructed.
The crushed drainage system had to be replaced.
The lawn needed grading.
A section near the garage required additional excavation because the bucket had disturbed compacted material close to the foundation approach.
Daniel obtained two more bids.
$44,900.
$49,200.
Rebecca used the middle figure for preliminary damages.
Then she added engineering assessment.
Temporary drainage protection.
Loss of use.
Legal expenses.
Landscape restoration.
Professional inspection.
Daniel stared at the total.
“This is going over a hundred.”
“Yes.”
“For a driveway.”
Rebecca corrected him.
“For intentionally destroying a driveway, damaging drainage, forcing reconstruction, creating legal expenses, and depriving you of normal use of part of your property.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It is worse.”
The HOA’s insurance carrier became involved.
Then things became even more complicated.
The carrier asked whether Karen’s conduct had been authorized by a valid board action.
The meeting minutes were vague.
“Corrective enforcement approved.”
No contractor.
No demolition scope.
No dollar amount.
No legal review.
Walter submitted his own statement.
He had understood the vote to mean sending Daniel a violation notice and requiring further board review.
He had never authorized destruction.
Melissa said the same.
The fourth board member claimed he believed Karen was discussing fines.
Karen suddenly found herself unable to point to a clear vote approving demolition.
The association’s attorney, a man named Stephen Lowe, had not attended the meeting.
In fact, Karen had not told him anything until after the driveway was gone.
Stephen’s reaction when he learned was reportedly simple.
“You did what?”
The insurer reserved its rights.
That phrase frightened Karen more than Mark’s citation.
If the insurer concluded she had committed an intentional unauthorized act outside her legitimate board authority, portions of the damages might become personal.
Karen hired her own attorney.
For the first time, Cedar Hollow had three separate sets of lawyers.
Daniel’s.
The association’s.
Karen’s.
The neighborhood noticed.
People began talking.
At first privately.
Then openly.
Gregory Patterson called Daniel.
They had exchanged greetings for years but had never been close.
“I heard you have video.”
“I do.”
“Can I show you something?”
That evening, Gregory arrived carrying an old phone and a folder.
Texts from Karen.
YOUR FENCE REMAINS NONCOMPLIANT.
IF YOU DO NOT REMOVE IT, THE ASSOCIATION WILL CORRECT THE CONDITION.
Gregory had replied:
DO NOT ENTER MY PROPERTY.
Karen:
THE ASSOCIATION RETAINS ENFORCEMENT AUTHORITY.
Then Gregory’s mother died.
He left town.
When he returned, twenty-six feet of fence were gone.
“I complained.”
“What happened?”
“Karen told everyone I had authorized access when I joined the HOA.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Did you?”
“No.”
Gregory laughed bitterly.
“I eventually rebuilt it myself because fighting cost more than lumber.”
“You still have everything?”
“Every message.”
Daniel gave him Mark Ellis’s number.
Marianne Cole came next.
Her maple trees had been almost thirty years old.
Karen claimed they interfered with a sight line from a neighboring property.
The neighbor had never complained.
Karen simply believed mature trees made Marianne’s yard look “overgrown.”
Marianne had been in Arizona visiting her daughter.
When she returned, the trees were stumps.
She cried while telling Rebecca.
Not because of the money.
Her husband had planted one tree when their son was born.
Her husband was dead now.