“HOA authority permits correction of noncompliant exterior identification.”
The first officer stared at her.
“Does HOA authority permit changing one legal house number to another?”
“That’s not what happened.”
The homeowner laughed in disbelief.
“We watched you do it.”
The officer looked toward the ambulance.
“Was there an emergency response delay?”
The homeowner nodded.
“They started turning into the wrong driveway.”
The officer’s face changed.
That mattered.
The HOA President seemed to realize it too.
She adjusted her tote bag higher on her shoulder.
“This is becoming absurd.”
The first officer held out a hand.
“Ma’am, don't leave.”
“I have a board meeting.”
“You're staying.”
Her face flushed.
“On whose authority?”
The second officer looked at him.
The first officer answered calmly:
“Ours.”
The HOA President gave a sharp laugh.
“I know the police captain.”
The homeowner looked toward the officer.
The officer did not seem impressed.
“Good.”
“Then he can explain later.”
The second officer walked toward the mailbox.
He examined the screw holes.
Bent bracket.
Fresh scratches.
Then crouched.
A screwdriver lay in the grass.
He picked it up with gloved fingers.
“Yours?”
The HOA President said nothing.
“Ma’am?”
“It belongs to the HOA maintenance kit.”
The homeowner stared.
“You brought tools.”
“For compliance.”
The officer looked toward the mansion.
“When did you arrive here?”
The HOA President hesitated.
“This morning.”
“What time?”
“Approximately ten.”
The homeowner looked at his watch.
It was 2:17 p.m.
“You've been here four hours?”
“I was performing inspections.”
“On my property?”
“Community property adjacent to your property.”
The officer interrupted.
“Did you know someone inside had called an ambulance?”
“No.”
Too quick.
The homeowner noticed.
So did the officer.
“How could I possibly know that?”
she added.
The first officer studied her.
“Then why were you changing the number at that exact moment?”
“Coincidence.”
Silence.
She folded her arms.
The officer looked toward her cardigan pocket.
Something rectangular pressed through the fabric.
“What’s in your pocket?”
Her hand immediately moved over it.
“Personal property.”
“What kind?”
“My phone.”
The homeowner shook his head.
“Her phone is in her tote.”
The HOA President turned on him.
“Stop talking.”
The officer looked between them.
“How do you know?”
“She had it out when I first came outside.”
The HOA President looked at the officer.
“He doesn't know what he saw.”
The first officer extended his hand.
“Ma’am, take the item out slowly.”
“No.”
The temperature changed.
The homeowner stepped back.
The second officer moved slightly to the side.
“Take your hand away from the pocket.”
“This is outrageous.”
“Ma’am.”
“I have done nothing illegal.”
“Then we'll sort that out.”
She took one step backward.
The second officer said sharply:
“Don't.”
The HOA President turned.