Nobody died.
We survived older lounge chairs.
The criminal case took eleven months.
That surprised residents.
Internet justice happens in thirty seconds.
Actual due process moves slowly.
The former president was charged federally with several counts related to stolen mail and obstruction-related conduct that prosecutors believed the evidence supported. State prosecutors brought additional theft and fraud-related charges involving non-USPS parcels and unauthorized funds.
I was subpoenaed.
So were the nurse.
The widow.
Several residents.
The former president pleaded not guilty initially.
Her defense was straightforward.
She believed she had authority.
The opened packages were inspected as part of security.
Items in the cabinet had been retained because ownership was unclear.
The cash fund was used for community purposes.
Any missing contents were unrelated.
Her attorney attacked the controlled parcel.
Called it entrapment.
The judge rejected that argument at a pretrial hearing.
The inspectors had not persuaded her to steal.
They placed a lawful delivery at my home and observed what she independently chose to do.
She had been taking parcels before they ever became involved.
The blue marking was evidence.
Not inducement.
My favorite moment in the hearings was not dramatic.
The defense attorney asked the female postal inspector:
“Wouldn’t you agree that the defendant believed she was acting under HOA authority?”
The inspector answered:
“I can’t testify to what she believed.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“Then—”
“She also told us the HOA had a written package policy.”
The attorney paused.
“Did it?”
“No.”
That was all.
Facts are often less theatrical than arguments.
They also last longer.
Two weeks before trial, the former president changed her plea.
Not to every count.
A negotiated resolution.
She admitted to mail theft involving specific parcels, misapplication of funds under the state case, and related offenses.
The agreement included restitution.
Probation after a period of incarceration.
Community-service requirements.
Restrictions on managing fiduciary funds for organizations during supervision.
People online demanded a longer sentence when the news spread.
Some wanted ten years.
CHAPTER 40
Some wanted twenty.
Most had no idea what the actual sentencing guidelines were or what facts applied.
I did not celebrate.
My daughter asked why.
“She did it.”
“Yes.”
“She lied.”
“Yes.”
“She stole medication.”
“Yes.”
“Then why not happy?”
I thought for a while.
“Because accountability and pleasure aren’t the same.”
She looked skeptical.
“If somebody gets punished for hurting you, you can feel relieved.”
“I do.”
“You can feel glad it stopped.”
“I do.”
“But?”
“But if I need her suffering to feel whole, then I’ve given her too much control.”
My daughter stared.
“That sounds like therapist language.”
“It probably is.”
“Do you have therapist?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should.”
Teenagers.
At sentencing, the widow gave a statement.
She was more nervous than she had been at the HOA election.
She brought a page.
Then did not read from it.
She looked directly at the former president.