The rights were described as temporary in the opening paragraphs.
Later language contemplated recording certain rights against the property if project conditions required it.
I read the document carefully.
Then looked toward my attorney.
Her expression had become serious.
The coordinator explained that the president wanted the agreement prepared for signature immediately after a contamination incident was formally documented.
She argued that a frightened homeowner would be more willing to authorize outside access if he believed his pool needed urgent professional attention.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I leaned back.
The woman had repeatedly demanded that I sign away rights over my property.
I refused.
The court prohibited her from entering.
Then she arrived with a blue bag, poured material into my pool, and claimed it contained something deadly.
At the same time, a report was being prepared to describe my pool as unsafe.
And an agreement was waiting that would grant access to the very project she'd been promoting.
I stared at the papers.
The full picture was beginning to emerge.
She wasn't trying to improve pool safety.
She was trying to create a crisis that could be used to force a signature.
My attorney asked the coordinator whether the developer approved the plan.
He shook his head.
He explained that he had raised concerns about the president's approach and that senior management began questioning whether the access arrangements were legally reliable.
The developer didn't want a project built on rights that could later be challenged.
An invalid easement or coerced agreement could make financing impossible.
It could also expose the company to litigation.
The coordinator said he had asked the president to provide a signed access document before the project advanced.
She promised she would.
Then she became increasingly hostile whenever he requested details.
By the week of the pool incident, he'd begun documenting her statements because he was concerned she was misrepresenting the situation.
I asked why he hadn't contacted me earlier.
He looked uncomfortable.
For a moment, he stared at the map.
Then answered honestly.
"I thought it was just a difficult property negotiation."
I understood.
The developer had a financial interest.
He wasn't automatically my ally.
But he also wasn't responsible for everything the president did.
The important question was what he knew and when.
My attorney asked whether the company would preserve its communications and cooperate with lawful requests.
He nodded.
"Yes."
Then he placed another document on the table.
This one was a payment schedule.
And the number near the bottom made me sit upright.
Two hundred and forty thousand dollars.
A consulting fee connected to successful completion of the access arrangements.