He placed it on the rear seat of his black sedan.
Then drove home.
He didn't know that the HOA president had learned the folder was in his car.
And he didn't know she was already making a decision that would turn a difficult civil dispute into something far more serious.
The HOA president didn't initially intend to break the window.
At least, that was what she would later tell her lawyer.
She said she'd gone to the sheriff's house to demand the return of documents she believed belonged to the association. She claimed she wanted to prevent confidential financial information from being circulated among residents who were trying to undermine the board.
But the events leading to the confrontation told a different story.
That morning, she'd received a message from a board member who saw the sheriff leaving the courthouse with the attorney.
The message mentioned a thick tan folder.
A few hours later, the president drove past his house and saw the black sedan parked in the driveway.
Through the rear passenger window, she could make out a folder lying on the leather seat.
She recognized its color.
The former treasurer had used similar folders for financial packets.
The president stopped her vehicle near the curb.
For several minutes, she sat watching the house.
The driveway was empty except for the sedan.
The garage door was partly open.
She could hear tools moving somewhere inside.
Then she noticed a baseball bat leaning near a rack of recreational equipment beside a neighboring yard.
The bat belonged to a teenager who lived nearby and often practiced with friends in the street after school.
The president crossed the sidewalk.
She looked toward the house.
Then toward the folder.
For a moment, she seemed to hesitate.
Later, she would insist that she'd acted impulsively because she believed the documents had been stolen.
But what she did next was deliberate.
She picked up the bat.
Walked onto the sheriff's driveway.
And approached the rear passenger door.
She looked once toward the garage.
Then raised the bat.
The first strike cracked the glass.
The second shattered it.
Fragments scattered across the seat.
The president stepped closer, staring at the tan folder.
She could see invoices.
Account summaries.
Copies of voting records.
And a page bearing the association's official emblem.
For one brief moment, she believed she had reached the evidence before it could be used against her.