The HOA president stepped back and raised her phone again.
“I'm calling 911.”
“Good,” I replied.
She narrowed her eyes.
“You're going to regret that attitude.”
Then she began speaking into the phone.
“Yes, I need officers at a property in Ashbourne Crest Estates. We have an aggressive homeowner who has smashed a window and is threatening association representatives.”
I stared in disbelief.
She was actually doing it.
Calling the police.
Inventing a crime.
Standing in front of witnesses who had seen the truth.
And speaking with the confidence of someone who believed her position guaranteed that the officers would accept her story.
I looked toward the older man.
He avoided my eyes.
Then something occurred to me.
Something I hadn't considered since the glass shattered.
Three weeks earlier, this very same HOA president had demanded that I install a security camera above my poolside guesthouse porch.
She had accused my family of violating neighborhood security rules.
She claimed our swimming pool posed a liability to surrounding residents.
And she threatened fines unless a camera monitored the guesthouse entrance and the private gate.
I'd challenged the requirement.
But because additional surveillance would also help protect my family, I eventually installed a professionally configured camera system that stored recordings independently.
The HOA president had insisted the camera be positioned above the porch.
She'd even pointed to the exact place where she wanted it mounted.
At the time, I thought she was simply trying to exert control.
Now, standing barefoot behind the white iron gate, I slowly turned my head.
Above the guesthouse porch, mounted beneath the roofline, was a small black security camera.
Its status light was illuminated.
The lens faced the gate.
The broken window.
And the exact spot where the woman had stood when she threw the stone.
I felt the anger inside me become something colder.
Something calmer.
I looked back at her.
She was still speaking into her phone.
“Yes, the suspect is refusing to cooperate. He's becoming increasingly hostile.”
I reached toward the outdoor table where I'd left my smartphone.
Then opened the security application.
The recording was there.
Crystal clear.
The HOA president picking up the stone.
The older man reaching toward her arm.
Her pulling away.
The stone flying through the air.
The window exploding.
And her immediately turning toward me with a triumphant smile.
I watched the footage once.
Then again.
The timestamp was visible.
The audio was clear.
And the camera had captured every word.
I looked up.
The HOA president was still talking.
I waited until she finished.
Then I spoke quietly.