Then I reviewed the earlier motion alerts.
Tuesday.
Wednesday.
The previous Saturday.
There were more than I'd realized.
One recording showed two men examining the gate.
Another showed a woman carrying a clipboard walking along the sidewalk and photographing the house.
A third captured an unfamiliar vehicle stopping near the property while someone appeared to compare the address with a printed list.
The people did not enter the backyard.
But their repeated visits were unusual.
Then I found something that made me sit upright.
Six days before the confrontation, the HOA president herself appeared in a recording.
She was standing outside the gate with the same older man who had accompanied her on the day the window broke.
She pointed toward the keypad.
Then toward the pool.
The older man looked down at a document.
She spoke.
The camera microphone captured part of the conversation.
“The owner has already signed. The access arrangement is settled.”
The older man asked whether someone should confirm the details with the homeowner.
She shook her head.
“No direct contact. Everything goes through the association office.”
My stomach tightened.
Then she continued.
“We'll distribute the codes when the preview schedule is finalized.”
I stared.
She'd been promising codes before she'd obtained one.
The older man looked uncomfortable in the video.
He asked what would happen if the homeowner wanted to change the access arrangement.
The president laughed.
“He's not going to change anything.”
Then she looked toward the house.
“And if he tries, we'll handle him.”
I replayed the final sentence.
My wife leaned closer.
Her face became pale.
“She planned to pressure you.”
I nodded.
At the very least, the video showed that the president had been discussing access to our private property while representing that an agreement existed.
I forwarded the recording to our attorney.
Then continued examining the footage.
One detail kept bothering me.
The president hadn't seemed concerned about the camera during the earlier visit.
She'd stood directly in its field of view.
Spoken openly.
And pointed toward the keypad.
Perhaps she hadn't realized the device recorded audio.
Perhaps she assumed the recordings were accessible to the HOA.
Or perhaps she simply believed nobody would challenge her.
Whatever the reason, the very surveillance system she'd insisted we install had preserved conversations that helped explain the confrontation.
The next morning, our attorney called.
She sounded unusually serious.
“I've reviewed the recordings.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
“And?”
“The footage supports your account of the property damage and shows earlier representations about access.”
I nodded.
She continued.
“We also need to examine the purported agreement.”