"No. Just cut them enough that he can't keep them."
I stopped the video.
I replayed that sentence.
Just cut them enough that he can't keep them.
Before that moment, I could have imagined incompetence.
A mistaken work order.
A contractor given the wrong lot number.
A property-line misunderstanding.
After that sentence, there was no misunderstanding.
Someone had knowingly entered my property and destroyed my trees.
And someone had believed the HOA president's clipboard gave her the right to do it.
I set my coffee down.
Then I called the police.
The Woman With the Clipboard
The officer arrived twenty-three minutes later.
His name was Officer Daniel Ruiz.
He stepped out of his cruiser, looked at the trees, then looked at me.
"How many?"
"Twelve originally."
He walked toward the nearest stump.
"How many damaged?"
"Seven cut. Two severely damaged."
He photographed everything.
I showed him the orange ribbon.
He read it twice.
"HOA did this?"
"I believe so."
"You have proof?"
"I have video."
His expression changed slightly.
"Video of them cutting the trees?"
"Yes."
I opened the footage.
He watched silently.
When Brenda appeared on the screen, Officer Ruiz leaned closer.
He watched the entire exchange.
Then he replayed the final sentence.
"Just cut them enough that he can't keep them."
He looked at me.
"Do you know this woman personally?"
"Unfortunately."
"Any history?"
I handed him the folder I had started six months earlier.
Inside were the violation notices, emails, survey, photographs, and the board's decision suspending the original violation.
Officer Ruiz flipped through the documents.
"She gave you a removal order?"
"Not exactly."
"Then what did she give you?"
"Nothing that authorized this."
He nodded.
"That's important."
He photographed the survey.
Then he asked me to walk the property line with him.
We did.
The survey stakes were still visible.
The trees were clearly inside my parcel.
When we returned to the backyard, Officer Ruiz said something that surprised me.
"I'd keep that footage in three places."
"I already have it on my phone."
"Don't keep it only there."
He gave me a card.
"Email it to yourself. Put it on a drive. Whatever you need to do."
He paused.
"And don't confront her."
I almost laughed.