Some had small swimming pools.
Others featured shaded patios, outdoor kitchens, or carefully maintained gardens filled with drought-tolerant plants.
The streets curved gently around a central clubhouse.
The clubhouse included a meeting room, a fitness area, and a community swimming pool.
For years, that pool had been one of the neighborhood's most popular amenities.
Children attended summer lessons there.
Parents gathered beneath the shade structures.
Older residents swam gentle laps early in the morning.
And on hot weekends, families brought towels, sunscreen, and cold drinks to escape the desert heat.
The association collected monthly dues of $425 from each household.
That produced $744,600 in scheduled annual assessments before other income or adjustments.
The money was supposed to maintain common areas, insurance, landscaping, security, facilities, and financial reserves.
The HOA president had held her position for nine years.
She considered Copper Mesa her personal achievement.
In community newsletters, she described herself as the woman who preserved the neighborhood's appearance and protected property values.
At board meetings, she spoke with absolute confidence.
When residents thanked her, she accepted the praise graciously.
When they disagreed, her smile disappeared.
She maintained a small circle of loyal supporters who accompanied her to social events and repeated her opinions during meetings.
Two of those supporters were the women who would eventually enter the Black homeowner's pool.
The red-haired friend handled several neighborhood fundraising activities.
She enjoyed organizing exclusive events for wealthy homeowners and had a habit of speaking dismissively about residents who questioned expenses.
The brunette friend assisted with social calendars, invitations, and member communications.
She was less aggressive.
More easily influenced.
But she had gradually become accustomed to following the HOA president's lead without asking too many questions.
Together, the three women referred to themselves privately as the people who kept Copper Mesa "classy."
Most residents considered them annoying but harmless.
They were wrong.