He wrote:
Do I have to?
Yes. Wear pants.
Aaron smiled despite himself.
The week became stranger.
Three neighbors sent him surveys.
None showed the pedestrian corridor.
A fourth homeowner sent a violation letter from two years earlier.
It cited the “rear recreation easement.”
Attached photograph showed a garden shed.
The homeowner had moved it at a cost of $3,200.
Another family had paid $450 in fines over a fence extension allegedly blocking access.
A retired couple removed mature landscaping because Victoria said emergency HOA access had to remain open.
Aaron began building a spreadsheet.
Then remembered Rachel’s warning.
He sent everything to her.
She called.
“You built a spreadsheet.”
“Maybe.”
“I said don’t investigate.”
“I’m organizing.”
“That is what investigators call investigating.”
“I manage construction projects.”
“Which is why you cannot stop yourself.”
Rachel sounded annoyed.
Then:
“Send me the spreadsheet.”
Thursday night, 117 residents attended.
The clubhouse normally seated sixty.
People stood along walls.
Some watched from the hallway.
Victoria sat at the front wearing a full pink suit.
Not soft pink.
Bright.
Almost defiant.
Vice president Robert Hayes sat beside her.
Treasurer Melissa Grant occupied the other side.
Association counsel Alan Whitmore—no relation to Victoria—sat near the center.
Rachel whispered:
“Different Whitmore?”
“Yes.”
“That’s disappointing.”
Aaron almost laughed.
Victoria opened the meeting.
“This meeting has been called because misinformation is circulating about association rights.”
Someone shouted:
“You started the misinformation.”
Murmurs.
Victoria struck the gavel.
“Order.”
Aaron disliked gavels in neighborhood meetings.
Too theatrical.
She continued.
“The original Oakridge Heights development plan includes a recreational pedestrian corridor connecting several residential sections to the central park.”
Rachel leaned toward Aaron.
“Original development plan.”
“I heard.”
“Not recorded plat.”
“I heard.”
Victoria displayed a large projected map.
The preliminary map.
Red dotted line.
There it was.
Running behind Aaron’s property.
Across twelve others.
Ending at the community park.
Victoria pointed.
“This corridor has existed since development.”
A man near the back raised his hand.
“Where?”
Victoria frowned.
“What?”
“Where physically?”
Laughter.
“There’s no path.”
“The easement exists regardless of whether improvements were installed.”
Rachel muttered:
“Maybe.”
Aaron looked at her.
“Maybe?”
“An easement can exist without a path.”
“Thanks.”
“Relax.”
Victoria continued.
“This board has consistently protected access rights.”
Then Alan Whitmore raised one hand.
“Victoria.”
She stopped.
“We need to clarify something before continuing.”
Her expression changed.
He opened a folder.
“The map on screen was part of the preliminary development submission dated February 2008.”
“Yes.”
“The final subdivision plat was recorded June 2009.”
“Yes.”
“The final plat does not depict the pedestrian easement.”