“Pets?”
“One cat.”
“Keep it away from the room near the stove until we inspect.”
The Homeowner nodded.
The HOA President shouted:
“This is completely excessive.”
The Fire Marshal looked up.
“Ma’am.”
She stopped.
“Stay there.”
His tone ended the discussion.
Another firefighter arrived carrying safety equipment.
The Homeowner looked toward the street.
Neighbors were appearing now.
Front porches.
Windows.
Driveways.
Phones.
Of course.
Nothing attracted suburban attention like emergency vehicles and a woman in a pink coat trapped on a roof.
The Homeowner hated it.
The HOA President hated it more.
The Fire Marshal asked:
“Do you have security footage?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Any previous vandalism?”
“Yes.”
That caught his attention.
“What kind?”
“Rotten food beside the woodpile.”
“Someone blocked the chimney cap with plastic once.”
“Last month.”
The Marshal’s expression changed.
“Blocked?”
“Yes.”
“Did you report it?”
“To police.”
“Report number?”
The Homeowner had it on his phone.
He showed him.
The Fire Marshal read.
Then looked toward the chimney again.
“That could have caused carbon monoxide buildup.”
“I know.”
“Who did you suspect?”
The Homeowner looked toward the roof.
“I didn’t have proof.”
The Fire Marshal nodded.
“Don’t speculate now.”
Facts first.
The Homeowner appreciated that.
The officers eventually guided the HOA President down.
She descended slowly.
Her white heels had been replaced by heavy boots, but the pale-pink coat still stood out against the snow.
The moment she reached the ground, she straightened.
Almost instantly recovering authority.
She brushed snow from her sleeves.
Then pointed toward the Homeowner.
“This resident has been operating a noncompliant solid-fuel system for months.”
The Fire Marshal looked at her.
“Do you have fire-code authority?”
She paused.
“No.”
“Mechanical inspection authority?”
“No.”
“Environmental enforcement authority?”
“The HOA regulates nuisance conditions.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Her expression hardened.
“I have association authority over exterior property standards.”
The Marshal nodded once.
“Then why were you putting animal waste into a chimney?”
She stared.
“To demonstrate the odor problem.”
The Homeowner blinked.
Even the nearest officer looked confused.
The Fire Marshal spoke slowly.
“You poured manure into a flue to demonstrate an odor complaint?”
The HOA President crossed her arms.
“He ignored every warning.”
“That is not an answer.”
She looked toward the Homeowner.
“This is being deliberately distorted.”
The Homeowner said nothing.
The Fire Marshal pointed toward the bucket.
“Where did you get that?”
The HOA President’s face changed.
Barely.
The Homeowner noticed.