Laura looked up from the papers, her face entirely devoid of expression. "We are here to discuss eighteen thousand six hundred forty dollars of missing capital reserves."
The Cedar Hollow clubhouse smelled of wet wool and lemon wax. Forty folding chairs filled the linoleum floor. Neighbors sat knee to knee under the dim ceiling fans. Frank Ellis chewed peppermint gum in the third row. Mrs. Peterson twisted her silver purse strap in her lap.
Karen Whitmore stood at the podium beside the snack table. She wore a cream blazer and gold hoop earrings. Her sunglasses tapped a rigid staccato against her forearm.
"The budget adjustments reflect necessary administrative expenses," Karen said.
Laura Kim walked down the center aisle. She carried a heavy leather briefcase in her left hand. Her heels clicked on the wax floor. She stopped three paces from the front table. She placed a single manila folder on the podium wood.
Karen lowered her chin behind the microphone. "This is a closed assembly for Cedar Hollow property owners only."
Laura tapped the bottom edge of a document three times against her portfolio. She looked up at the back row.
"The capital reserve ledger tells a different story," Laura said.
A low murmur rolled across the folding chairs. Frank Ellis stopped chewing his gum. He leaned forward to watch the front of the room.
Laura opened the manila folder. She pulled out a bank statement and a contractor invoice. The pages rustled in the quiet room.
"During the fiscal year ending October, eighteen thousand six hundred and forty dollars vanished from community funds," Laura said.
Karen gripped the edges of the wooden podium. Her knuckles turned white. Her designer sunglasses struck her forearm again in a fast, sharp rhythm.
"That money did not pay for landscaping or gate maintenance," Laura said. She held the invoice toward the assembly. "It paid for heavy copper cabling and an unpermitted automatic transfer switch."
Mrs. Peterson raised her trembling hand from the fourth row. Her voice cracked in the damp air.
"Why did I get violation letters for my roof panels if we were stealing his power?" Mrs. Peterson asked.
Karen stood frozen and speechless behind the microphone.
Thomas fitted the safety glasses over his ears. He looked out the reinforced window toward the southern field where forty-two monocrystalline panels caught the afternoon glare.
"Do it," Thomas said.
Gabriel tapped the enter key. The amber production curve on the pantry monitor flickered and vanished. Two heavy-duty contactors separated inside the primary breaker panel with two resounding metallic clacks.