The HOA disagrees with your consultant's conclusions.
That was it.
No counter-report.
No engineer.
No evidence.
Just disagreement.
I forwarded it to Daniel.
He replied:
Keep digging.
By then, I'd spent almost three years looking at water.
But the breakthrough came from looking at money.
HOA financial records showed something strange.
The clubhouse renovation had cost much more than the amount approved in the annual budget.
I found references to a "capital improvement financing facility."
In normal language:
A loan.
I requested the loan documents.
Constance refused.
I requested them again, citing my rights as a homeowner to inspect certain association financial records.
This time, Daniel sent the request on his letterhead.
Funny how quickly people discover missing documents when a lawyer asks.
Ten days later, I received 186 pages.
Most were useless.
Bank statements.
Invoices.
Insurance certificates.
Contractor payments.
Then I reached page 143.
LOAN AGREEMENT — MILLBROOK PINES HOMEOWNERS ASSOCIATION.
The HOA had borrowed $310,000 to renovate the clubhouse, parking area, pool deck, and landscaping.
The clubhouse property itself was part of the collateral arrangement.
But that wasn't what caught my attention.
A section titled PROPERTY MAINTENANCE AND COMPLIANCE required the association to maintain the collateral in accordance with applicable laws, recorded easements, permits, and material property restrictions.
I read it twice.
Then called Daniel.
"Does this mean what I think it means?"
"Probably not."
"That's disappointing."
"What do you think it means?"
"If the HOA altered a recorded drainage easement and created an unpermitted discharge, they're violating the loan agreement."
Silence.
"Garrett."
"Yeah?"
"Send me the whole thing."
The next day, Daniel called back.
"You may have found leverage."
Not victory.
Leverage.
That word was better.
Because Constance didn't care about my yard.
She didn't care about my deck.
She didn't care about my insurance.
But the board cared about the clubhouse.
And banks care about collateral.
Daniel cautioned me not to contact the lender recklessly.
First, we needed stronger evidence.
So I kept digging.
The contractor who performed the clubhouse work was Piedmont Outdoor Concepts.
I called them.
The receptionist transferred me twice before a project manager named Neil answered.
I gave him the property address.
There was a long pause.
"That was a while ago."
"I'm trying to get the approved drainage plans."
"HOA should have those."
"They don't."
Another pause.
"I can look."
Three days later, Neil emailed me.
He had found the original proposal.
The drainage section included a note:
Existing eastern drainage swale to remain unobstructed.
I stared at those words.
Remain unobstructed.
But it hadn't.
It had been filled.
I called Neil.
"Did your company fill the swale?"
"We completed work according to field direction."
"Whose direction?"
"I'm not getting into that."
"Was it in the approved proposal?"
"No."
"Who requested the change?"
Another silence.
Then:
"You should talk to the association."
Which meant he knew.
And I knew.
But neither of us could prove it yet.
Then Earl Patterson gave me the final piece.
He had attended a clubhouse landscaping committee meeting during construction.
And Earl kept everything.
Including emails.
He forwarded me one from Constance dated May 14, three years earlier.
The subject was: