The crew immediately isolated the heating system and ventilated the property. One firefighter entered wearing protective equipment while another monitored the carbon monoxide levels outside.
Daniel watched anxiously as they worked.
Evelyn sat inside an ambulance, receiving oxygen while a paramedic checked her vital signs. Daniel wanted to accompany her, but she insisted he stay long enough to answer the firefighters' questions.
Brenda, meanwhile, had moved away from the fire engine and was speaking rapidly into her phone.
“No, nobody was supposed to be inside,” she whispered. “I thought he had gone to work.”
Daniel heard her.
He turned slowly.
“What did you just say?”
Brenda's face drained of color.
“I was talking to the HOA attorney.”
“You said nobody was supposed to be inside.”
“I meant nobody should have been inside during the work.”
“What work? You never scheduled any work with me.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
A police cruiser arrived shortly afterward. The officers separated Daniel and Brenda, photographed the concrete bucket, documented the damage, and interviewed the firefighters.
Daniel showed them the threatening letters Brenda had sent over the previous three months. Each demanded that he remove the chimney by a specific deadline. The final letter warned that the HOA would take further action if he failed to comply.
One officer studied the documents.
“Did the association authorize this?”
“Not that I'm aware of,” Daniel replied. “Brenda claims she was enforcing a new exterior uniformity rule.”
The officer looked at Brenda.
“Do you have written authorization to enter this property and perform construction work?”
Brenda folded her arms.
“The HOA has broad authority under its governing documents.”
“That wasn't my question.”
She looked toward the fire engine.
“I don't have the paperwork with me.”
The officer made a note.
Then the fire captain emerged from the house.
“The immediate danger is contained,” he announced. “The furnace has been shut down, and we've removed the material we could safely reach. The chimney will require professional inspection and substantial repairs before the heating system can be used again.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
His home had survived decades of Wisconsin winters. Now, because one person had decided an old chimney offended her aesthetic preferences, the house was damaged, his elderly neighbor had been exposed to a potentially deadly hazard, and he would need somewhere else to stay while repairs were completed.
He turned toward Brenda.
“You need to understand something. This isn't about a rule anymore.”
She stared at the snow.
“You could have killed someone.”
For the first time that morning, Brenda had nothing to say.
Then another vehicle pulled up.