The Internet disconnection hadn't been about HOA compliance.
It had been a test.
Someone wanted to know what would happen if my second connection disappeared.
Would a normal technician arrive?
Would my employer respond?
Would security personnel appear?
Would federal authorities show up?
Karen had unknowingly—or perhaps knowingly—helped them probe the connection.
Instead of hiding the investigation, she had exposed herself.
The HOA Meeting
The neighborhood exploded.
Andrea called a special HOA meeting.
More than eighty residents attended.
Karen arrived with an attorney.
She looked furious.
Andrea stood at the front of the clubhouse with three poster boards.
One showed HOA finances.
One showed camera complaints.
One showed payments to Whitmore Community Services.
“This meeting is not about the federal investigation,” Andrea said.
Karen immediately interrupted.
“Then stop mentioning it.”
Andrea looked at her.
“I haven't mentioned it.”
“You're implying criminal activity.”
“I'm discussing HOA records.”
The first board showed thirty-one camera complaints.
The second showed the geographic pattern.
Residents began whispering.
Thomas Greene stood.
“You told me my alley camera violated state law.”
“I relied on legal guidance,” Karen said.
“From whom?”
Karen didn't answer.
The retired widower from Brookside Court stood next.
“You fined me because my camera recorded the street.”
“That fine was reversed.”
“After I appealed it.”
Another resident stood.
“You told me my doorbell camera had to be turned inward.”
Karen folded her arms.
“Privacy rules are complicated.”