"Now look at legitimate expenses. Landscaping, $800 monthly. Insurance, $200. Common area utilities, $150. Snow removal, $300 in winter. Basic maintenance, maybe $400 average."
I did the math in my head. "That's roughly $23,000 per year in real costs. So, where's the other $47,000 going?"
Janet pulled out a separate stack with the grim satisfaction of a prosecutor revealing the murder weapon.
"Administrative fees to Ashworth Property Management Services. $2,000 every single month."
My coffee suddenly tasted like acid. "For what services?"
"According to these invoices? Community standards enforcement, compliance monitoring, administrative oversight, and resident relations management."
"She's paying herself to be a professional nuisance."
"It gets worse."
Phil appeared at my door. Apparently, word was spreading through our resistance network. "Look at these landscaping contracts. Ashworth Lawn Care Services. That's her brother-in-law.
$1,200 monthly for comprehensive grounds maintenance in a neighborhood where you could mow everything in two hours with a riding mower. But here's the real kicker."
Phil continued, spreading out more documents like he was dealing cards. "Emergency repairs. New irrigation system for front entrance, $8,500. Parking lot resurfacing, $12,000. Community mailbox upgrades, $3,400."
"I drive past that entrance twice daily. There's no new irrigation system."
"Because the work was never done. These are phantom contracts. She authorizes payments to shell companies, then the money disappears."
The texture of those fake invoices felt like holding evidence of pure evil. This wasn't neighborhood politics. This was organized theft from every family trying to build a life here.
"Total damage?" I asked, dreading the answer.
Phil's calculator sounded like machine gun fire. "Conservative estimate over three years, $73,000 minimum."
The number hit me like a physical blow. That was someone's college fund, someone's retirement savings, money scraped together by working families who trusted their community leader.
"Jesus Christ," I whispered.
"It's worse than that," Janet said quietly. "Remember Dolores mentioned the family before you? Young couple with a baby who got driven out."
"Yeah."
"I found their violation records. 47 notices in six months, total fines, $3,400. They paid every penny before they moved."