“PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM! THIS VEHICLE IS BEING SEIZED!”
The man in the black tactical vest shouted the command as though my driveway belonged to him.
I stood on the front porch of my house, holding a half-finished cup of coffee, and stared at the three strangers surrounding my silver Porsche 911.
One was kneeling beside the front wheel, fastening an enormous yellow wheel clamp around the tire. Another stood near the bumper with a steel towing hook. The third, a heavyset man with a shaved head and dark sunglasses, had positioned himself between me and my car.
All three wore black uniforms displaying the words HOA SECURITY in large white letters.
None of them wore legitimate law enforcement insignia.
But their leader had a silver-colored shield clipped to his vest, and he was clearly hoping I wouldn't know the difference.
Behind my Porsche stood a white utility truck with amber warning lights flashing above its windshield.
And beside the driver's door of my car stood Sandra Holt.
Forty-nine years old. Perfectly styled blonde hair. Sharp blue eyes. Bright red lipstick. Gold jewelry expensive enough to make an ordinary person nervous.
She wore an immaculate white designer pantsuit, with a fitted blazer, matching trousers, a silk blouse, and pointed white heels that looked completely inappropriate for standing beside a tow truck.
Under her left arm was a black leather folder.
Across its cover, in embossed gold letters, were the words:
Oakfield Estates Compliance Authority.
Sandra pointed directly at me.
“There he is. That's the owner. Don't let him interfere!”
I slowly set my coffee cup on the porch railing.
“Gentlemen,” I said, “step away from my vehicle.”
The heavyset guard gave me a contemptuous smile.
“Official association enforcement. This Porsche has been ordered impounded.”
I looked toward the yellow clamp.
The man fastening it was working quickly.
The other guard had already moved toward the rear of the car.
“Ordered by whom?” I asked.
Sandra stepped forward.
“By me, Mr. Vale.”
She held up a sheet of paper.
“You've ignored six violation notices, refused to cooperate with neighborhood standards, and repeatedly disrespected my authority.”
I stared at her.
“Your authority?”
She smiled.
“I'm the vice president of the homeowners association.”
I nodded slowly.
“I'm aware.”
“Then you should understand that actions have consequences.”
The heavyset guard moved closer.