Pressed it.
The damaged Rolls-Royce flashed its lights.
Once.
Twice.
The driveway became silent.
The HOA President stared at the vehicle.
Then at the Sheriff.
The Sheriff held the key fob between two fingers.
“That vehicle belongs to me.”
Her face emptied.
The Black Homeowner lowered his phone slightly.
Almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
The HOA President looked back at the shattered windows.
The baseball bat suddenly seemed much heavier in her hands.
“You…”
She stopped.
The Sheriff waited.
“That’s yours?”
“Yes.”
“But…”
The Sheriff looked toward the Black Homeowner.
“You told her?”
“Three times.”
The Sheriff nodded.
Then looked back at the HOA President.
She attempted recovery.
“This is obviously a misunderstanding.”
The Homeowner laughed once.
The Sheriff did not.
“You hit my vehicle with a baseball bat.”
“I believed it belonged to the resident.”
The Sheriff looked toward the broken passenger window.
“That improves this how?”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing.
The Sheriff stepped closer.
“Put the bat on the ground.”
The HOA President’s eyes widened.
“Sheriff, surely that isn’t necessary.”
“Bat.”
She looked toward the Homeowner.
As if somehow he could rescue her.
He did not.
She placed the bat on the concrete.
The Sheriff glanced toward the deputies.
Both exited the SUV.
One approached the bat.
The other stayed several yards away.
The HOA President’s voice changed.
Softer.
Professional.
“I really think we should discuss this privately.”
The Sheriff stared.
“You mean without the homeowner?”
“I mean without escalating unnecessarily.”
The Black Homeowner almost laughed again.
The Sheriff said:
“You escalated when you hit the first window.”
She swallowed.
“I was acting under association authority.”
The Sheriff looked at the Black Homeowner.
“Did she have permission to be on your property?”
“No.”
“Did you invite her?”
“No.”
“Did you authorize anyone to damage the car?”
The Homeowner looked at the Sheriff.
“Obviously not.”
The Sheriff nodded.
Then asked:
“Security cameras?”
The Homeowner pointed toward the porch.
“Three.”
The HOA President turned toward the roofline.
Tiny black cameras faced the driveway.
Her expression changed again.
The Sheriff noticed.
“Those record audio?”
The Homeowner nodded.
“Yes.”
The Sheriff took a breath.
“Good.”
The HOA President said:
“This is getting ridiculous.”
The Sheriff looked at her.
“You broke three pieces of my vehicle with a baseball bat while standing on somebody else’s property.”
She straightened.
“Because I believed the vehicle was in violation.”
The Sheriff replied:
“Parking violation doesn’t authorize vandalism.”