“Do not hit that car again.”
She looked at him.
“Or what?”
He kept the phone steady.
“Or you’re going to make an already stupid situation worse.”
That enraged her.
She turned.
Swung.
The bat slammed into the passenger-side mirror.
The housing shattered.
The mirror folded inward.
The Homeowner flinched.
Not from fear.
From the cost.
He had no idea what a Rolls-Royce mirror cost.
Probably more than his first car.
The HOA President breathed hard.
Then pointed toward him.
“That vehicle has been parked here overnight three times this month.”
“No.”
“We have photographs.”
“Then your photographs are wrong.”
“License plate recorded.”
“Still not my car.”
She laughed again.
“Do you hear yourself?”
The Homeowner did.
He also heard something else.
A low engine approaching.
He looked toward the street.
A marked county sheriff’s SUV turned onto the block.
The HOA President did not notice.
She was too busy performing.
“You’ve been violating parking restrictions for months.”
“I don’t own that Rolls-Royce.”
“You expect the board to believe you?”
“I don’t care what the board believes.”
Her mouth tightened.
“That attitude is exactly the problem.”
The sheriff’s SUV slowed.
The Black Homeowner lowered his phone slightly.
The HOA President raised the baseball bat toward the windshield.
“Last chance.”
“For what?”
“Move it.”
The Homeowner stared at her.
“I literally cannot.”
She smiled.
“Then I will.”
The bat began moving backward.
A voice came from behind her.
“Ma’am.”
Everything stopped.
The HOA President turned slowly.
A tall white American Sheriff in his late fifties stood at the edge of the driveway.
Full uniform.
Silver-gray hair.
Weathered face.
Dark sunglasses.
His marked SUV idled at the curb behind him.
Two deputies remained inside.
The Sheriff looked at the bat.
Then at the broken windows.
Then at the Black Homeowner.
Then back at the HOA President.
“What are you doing?”
For the first time since the Homeowner had stepped outside, the HOA President appeared unsure.
Only for a second.
Then her posture straightened.
“Sheriff.”
She lowered the bat slightly.
“This is an HOA enforcement matter.”
The Sheriff stared at her.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
The HOA President pointed toward the Rolls-Royce.
“This resident has repeatedly violated neighborhood vehicle restrictions and refused to comply.”
The Sheriff looked toward the Black Homeowner.
The Homeowner said nothing.
His phone continued recording.
The Sheriff turned back.
“You broke those windows?”
The HOA President looked irritated by the phrasing.
“I took corrective action after repeated violations.”
The Sheriff slowly removed his sunglasses.
“Corrective action.”
“Yes.”
The Sheriff reached into his uniform pocket.
The Black Homeowner already knew what came next.
The HOA President did not.
The Sheriff pulled out a black-and-silver key fob.