He opened a new document and began listing the names of the six other homeowners whose properties appeared on the Westbridge map.
He knew four of them personally.
The first was Margaret Ellis, a retired school principal who had lived on the street for thirty-one years.
The second was Thomas Reed, a quiet accountant who rarely attended neighborhood meetings.
The third was the Brooks family, whose elderly matriarch, Evelyn, lived in the house beside his.
The remaining properties belonged to people Daniel knew only by sight.
He decided to start with Margaret.
Her house stood three doors down, a pale blue colonial with white shutters and a garden that remained immaculate even in winter. Margaret had been one of the first people to welcome Daniel and Claire when they moved into the neighborhood. After Claire's death, she had brought meals to the house and quietly offered to help with Sophie whenever Daniel needed assistance.
He had not spoken to her in several weeks.
Daniel called her number.
She answered almost immediately.
"Daniel? I heard the commotion outside. Is everything all right?"
"Not exactly. Richard damaged my window."
"Oh, goodness."
"The police came. I'm going through the paperwork now, and I wanted to ask you something."
"Of course."
"Has Westbridge Development Group contacted you about buying your property?"
Silence.
It lasted only a few seconds, but Daniel noticed it.
"Yes," Margaret said at last.
"When?"
"About two months ago."
"What did they offer?"
"A considerable amount of money. More than I expected."
"Did you accept?"
"No."
"Did the association contact you afterward?"
Margaret exhaled slowly.
"Richard sent me a letter saying my garden shed was in violation of the neighborhood's architectural standards. I've had that shed for eleven years, Daniel. The association approved it when I built it."
Daniel felt a chill move through him.
"What happened?"
"They threatened a daily fine. Then someone came to inspect the shed while I was at the grocery store. When I returned, the lock on the gate was damaged."
"Did you report it?"
"I considered it, but I couldn't prove who had done it. I replaced the lock and tried to forget about the whole thing."
"Margaret, I need to ask you something else. Did Richard mention Westbridge when he sent the notice?"
"No. Why?"
"Because he's listed as a community liaison for the company."
Margaret went quiet again.
When she spoke, her voice was lower.
"I knew something wasn't right."
Daniel walked to the window and looked toward the street.
"How many other homeowners have received offers?"
"I don't know. But Thomas Reed told me last week that a representative had visited him. He said the offer was unusually generous, and when he refused, Richard began sending him letters about his driveway."
Daniel wrote down Thomas's name.
"Would you be willing to share your correspondence with me?"
"Yes. I'll scan everything tonight."
"Thank you."
"And Daniel?"
"Yes?"
"Please be careful. Richard has always been difficult, but lately he's been acting as though someone is pressuring him to get these houses cleared."
Daniel looked again at the map on his computer.
"That's exactly what I'm trying to understand."
After the call ended, he searched his email for Margaret's address and sent her instructions for forwarding the documents.
Then he called Thomas Reed.
Thomas did not answer.
Daniel left a message and moved on to the next name.
By four o'clock, he had contacted three homeowners. Two had received purchase offers. Both had been subjected to sudden enforcement actions after declining. The third had not received an offer but had been warned about a fence that had stood in the same place for fourteen years.
The pattern was becoming harder to dismiss.
At 4:12 p.m., Daniel collected Sophie from school.
She climbed into the passenger seat, dropped her backpack onto the floor, and began talking about a science project before she had even fastened her seat belt.
Then she noticed the dust on his shirt and the small cut near his wrist.
"What happened to you?"
Daniel looked down.
"I had an argument with someone."
"Who?"
"Richard Harlan."
Sophie's expression changed immediately.
"The HOA guy?"
"Yes."
"Did he come to our house again?"
Daniel turned toward her.
"What do you mean, again?"
Sophie hesitated.
Then she reached into her backpack and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"I didn't know if I should tell you."
Daniel took the paper.
It was a photocopy of a letter addressed to him, apparently sent through the association's office. The letter demanded that he remove the shelter within forty-eight hours and warned that failure to comply would result in additional penalties.