“You do.”
Daniel took out his phone.
“I've already asked you twice to identify the document granting the HOA authority.”
Margaret's face tightened.
“I don't answer to you.”
“Then answer to the county.”
He showed her a printed permit.
She didn't look at it.
“You're going to regret this.”
Daniel stared at her.
“Is that a threat?”
She smiled.
“No.”
Then she turned and walked away.
Daniel watched her leave.
The younger board member remained behind.
For a moment, she looked embarrassed.
“I'm sorry.”
Daniel said nothing.
She lowered her voice.
“She's been like this for a while.”
“Why don't you stop her?”
The woman looked toward Margaret's departing figure.
“Because nobody wants to be her next target.”
Daniel understood.
That was the real problem.
Not Margaret.
Fear.
People had allowed her authority to grow because confronting her was inconvenient.
Daniel closed his portfolio.
“Then somebody needs to become the next target.”
The Day the Cameras Turned On
The renovation crew arrived the following week.
So did the HOA.
Margaret came with two board members and a man she introduced as the association's “compliance consultant.”
Daniel met them at the gate.
“Good morning.”
Margaret didn't return the greeting.
“Construction must stop.”
“No.”
“You have no authorization.”
“I have county permits.”
“They're irrelevant.”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Don't speak to me like that.”
“I'm speaking to you normally.”
“You're being disrespectful.”
“I'm refusing to obey an authority you don't possess.”
The consultant stepped forward.
“Sir, we're trying to resolve this peacefully.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Then show me the document.”
The consultant hesitated.
“What document?”
“The one giving the HOA jurisdiction.”
Silence.
A contractor nearby smiled.
Margaret noticed.
“Don't make this personal.”
“You came to my property.”
“We're protecting the neighborhood.”
“From what?”
“Commercial activity.”
“This has always been a commercial parcel.”
“You're changing its use.”
“I'm reopening a convenience store.”
Margaret pointed toward the building.
“You're creating traffic.”
“You're standing in the driveway.”
The contractor laughed.
Margaret turned.
“Did you find that funny?”