"The money didn't buy beautification," Laura said, her voice flat. "It paid for the heavy-gauge copper wire and the automated transfer switch hidden in the junction box."
Thomas stared at the blinking cursor beside the digital signature. Twelve months of quiet evenings working under the amber glow of his panels fell into alignment with the uninvited visits.
"She financed the theft with association dues," Thomas said. He reached for his glasses again, his thumb brushing the hinge.
Laura closed her laptop with a sharp snap that echoed off the cinderblock walls. She stood, sliding documents into her briefcase, and zipped the leather shut.
"We have the invoices, the routing numbers, and the physical evidence," Laura said. She glanced at the wall clock ticking toward midnight. "The annual budget assembly starts tomorrow at six in the clubhouse."
The glowing cursor blinked beside a numbered line item on the screen. Laura Kim sat across the laminate table, her portfolio resting against her knee. Fluorescent tubes hummed overhead in the empty law office. Thomas rubbed his safety glasses against his denim shirt tail.
"Here," Laura said.
She tapped the bottom edge of a document three times against her portfolio to align it. Thomas leaned forward. The PDF file read ELECTRICAL2FINAL. The invoice was dated twelve months prior, matching the municipal utility trenching along the easement that Thomas had assumed was routine telecom work.
"Eighteen thousand six hundred forty dollars," Thomas read.
"Drawn from the capital reserve account," Laura said. Her tone remained a calm, level monotone. "Disguised as landscaping remediation."
"The trench was for fiber optics," Thomas said. "That's what the crew told me."
"They bored three hundred feet of heavy conduit instead," Laura replied. She slid a scanned signature page across the desk. "Approved by the board president. Complete with a vendor stub for custom heavy-duty contactors."
Thomas stared at the figures. Ninety-six thousand dollars of his own capital had bought forty-eight ground-mounted monocrystalline panels, two commercial hybrid inverters, and a lithium battery bank. Every kilowatt was meant to secure his six-acre ridge against the world. Every watt was meant to keep the memory of Martha quiet and undisturbed.
Instead, the HOA had intercepted his invisible harvest to subsidize their own subdivision overhead. The stolen electricity had kept their streetlights and water pumps humming while he thought he was alone.
"She used my plant as a municipal utility," Thomas said.
"She embezzled reserve funds to install the underground tap," Laura corrected. She closed her leather briefcase with a crisp double click. "We have the invoices, the contractor depositions, and the physical evidence inside that cast-iron junction box."
"The annual budget assembly is tomorrow evening," Thomas said.