"My driveway?"
The contractor showed him the paperwork.
Marcus read the classification.
HOA CONTROLLED PARKING PAD — VIOLATOR ACCESS RESTRICTED.
He stared at Patricia.
"My driveway was classified as HOA parking?"
Patricia shrugged.
"Technically, it's subject to HOA rules."
"That's not the same thing."
Rebecca leaned over the document.
"Who entered this classification?"
The contractor checked the work order.
"Client-side request."
"Which client?"
He looked at Patricia.
"Sonoran Ridge HOA."
Rebecca nodded.
"Who specifically?"
The contractor hesitated.
"Patricia Whitmore's office."
Patricia's expression hardened.
"This is becoming unnecessarily complicated."
Marcus pointed toward his security camera.
"No. It's becoming documented."
There were three cameras on the property.
One above the garage.
One facing the front entrance.
One aimed directly at the driveway.
Officer Park looked toward them.
"Preserve the footage."
"I will."
Patricia sighed.
"Mr. Bell, you've always had difficulty following community standards."
Marcus looked at her.
"What standards?"
"You've had multiple guest vehicles."
"I'm allowed guests."
"Not indefinitely."
"This guest arrived yesterday."
Rebecca interrupted.
"How many days am I supposedly allowed to stay?"
Patricia didn't answer.
Rebecca waited.
"Because the written rules don't seem to say what you're claiming."
Patricia looked at Officer Park.
"The board has delegated enforcement discretion."
Park nodded slowly.
"That's something the board can clarify."
He handed the work order back to the contractor.
"The plate doesn't match."
The contractor nodded.
"I'm removing the boot."
Patricia snapped.
"I did not authorize removal."
The contractor looked at her.
"Ma'am, the order identifies another vehicle."
He unlocked the device.
The boot came off.
Rebecca inspected the wheel.
No visible damage.
She photographed it anyway.
Officer Park took down the details.
Wrong plate.
Private driveway.
Incorrect classification.
Contractor authorization.
Security footage.
Patricia's statements.
When the officer left, Rebecca turned to Marcus.
"Do not argue with her anymore."
Marcus looked surprised.
"Why?"
"Because you're angry."
"I am."
"And angry people talk."
Marcus smiled.
"So what should I do?"
Rebecca picked up her coffee.
"Collect records."
"That's it?"
"That's everything."
She looked toward Patricia.
"Let her explain herself in writing."
Patricia's face tightened.
Rebecca smiled politely.
"People are often more honest when they have time to edit."
At 1:14 that afternoon, Marcus sat at his kitchen island and searched his email archive.
He typed one word:
Parking.
Thirty-eight messages appeared.
The oldest warning was eight months earlier.
UNREGISTERED GUEST VEHICLE — SILVER HONDA ACCORD
Marcus remembered the car.
His mother had visited for four hours.
He had immediately replied to the HOA, explaining that guests were permitted.
Patricia had responded:
Future unregistered guest vehicles may result in enforcement.
Marcus had asked which rule required a four-hour guest to register.
She never answered.
Two months later:
REPEAT VEHICLE VIOLATION — BLUE FORD PICKUP
That had been a plumber.
He was there for ninety minutes.
Marcus had disputed the violation.
The fine was eventually removed.
Then came a white van.
Appliance repair.
Again, the notice was withdrawn.
Marcus kept scrolling.
Finally, he found the photograph associated with the current case.
A dark SUV.