His attorney continued.
“She also discussed the possibility of getting the HOA to declare certain activities on your property violations.”
Marcus looked toward the welding machine.
“So the garage thing…”
“Wasn't really about the garage.”
Marcus stared at the concrete floor.
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Marcus asked, “How much did they offer?”
“That's the interesting part.”
His attorney's voice became quieter.
“They didn't want to buy the strip at market value.”
Marcus frowned.
“What did they offer?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“They were trying to force you into an easement.”
Marcus laughed once.
It wasn't a happy laugh.
“You're telling me they wanted access to my property without paying me for it?”
“That's what it looks like.”
Marcus stood.
He walked slowly across the garage.
The same garage where Patricia had once parked her Maybach.
The same garage where she had looked at him and said she would leave when she felt like it.
Now everything made sense.
She hadn't been trying to win an argument.
She had been trying to make Marcus uncomfortable enough to surrender something valuable.
And she had almost succeeded.
Not because Marcus was weak.
Because he hadn't known the game existed.
His attorney said, “Marcus, there's more.”
Marcus stopped.
“What?”
“There was a meeting.”
“When?”
“About a year ago.”
“With who?”
“Patricia, three HOA board members, and two Crestline executives.”
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“Where?”
“Private room at a restaurant downtown.”
“What did they discuss?”
“Your property.”
Marcus rubbed his beard.
“Were they talking about me?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
His attorney hesitated.
“Do you really want me to tell you?”
Marcus looked at the garage door.
“Yes.”
“They described you as an obstacle.”
The word hung in the air.
Obstacle.
Not neighbor.
Not homeowner.
Not member of the community.
Obstacle.
Marcus nodded slowly.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“They said you were unlikely to cooperate voluntarily.”
Marcus smiled without humor.
“That part they got right.”
His attorney laughed quietly.
Then his tone changed.
“Marcus, there is one more thing.”
“What?”
“They may have broken the law.”
Marcus stopped smiling.
“What do you mean?”
“We're still verifying it, but some of the emails suggest Patricia obtained private information about you that she had no legitimate reason to possess.”
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“What kind of information?”
“Your travel schedule.”
Marcus went still.
His attorney continued.
“Your work schedule. Your sister's visits. When contractors came to the property. Even some information about your financial situation.”
Marcus stared at the camera.
Then he remembered something.
The day of the Maybach incident.
Patricia had known his flight time.
She had known he would be leaving soon.
At the time, Marcus had assumed she was bluffing.