The widow nodded.
"Three times."
"What did they say?"
Her expression hardened.
"That their records were correct and I should stop arguing."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she reached beneath the notebook and removed an older letter.
It had been signed by the former association treasurer.
The letter warned that some reserve-fund expenditures couldn't be reconciled and requested an independent audit.
The sheriff read it carefully.
Then looked up.
"When did you receive this?"
"About eight months ago."
He stared at the paper.
The treasurer's concerns involved more than disputed homeowner payments.
They concerned hundreds of thousands of dollars.
And the HOA president had apparently resisted attempts to explain where the money went.
The sheriff asked whether he could contact the former treasurer.
The widow nodded.
She had kept the woman's telephone number.
They called together.
The former treasurer answered after several rings.
She was sixty-eight, a retired accountant who had served on the Magnolia Crest board for eleven years before resigning.
When the sheriff introduced himself, her tone became cautious.
He explained that he was calling as a homeowner, not conducting an official investigation.
Then he described the widow's records.
For several seconds, the treasurer was silent.
Finally, she asked a question.
"Did they charge her for the gate replacement?"
He looked toward the widow.
"Yes."
The woman's voice changed.
Then she asked whether the amount included an emergency infrastructure assessment approved during the previous summer.
He confirmed it did.
The treasurer sighed.
"That gate was never replaced."
The sheriff frowned.
"What?"
She repeated herself.
"The board approved money for a complete replacement. But the company only repaired the old motor and repainted the entrance."
For a moment, the sheriff looked toward the widow.
She stared at him.
The treasurer continued.
"That's why I resigned."
The sheriff asked whether she'd be willing to explain the records in person.
She hesitated.
Then said she'd been threatened with legal action after questioning the expenditures.
He remained quiet.
Finally, she agreed to meet if a lawyer was present.
The sheriff thanked her.
When the call ended, the widow looked toward the papers spread across the table.
For several seconds, she seemed unable to speak.
Then she whispered.
"They've been taking our money."
The sheriff didn't answer immediately.
He wouldn't accuse anyone of theft based on a telephone conversation and several disputed invoices.
But the pattern was serious.
And the widow deserved more than another dismissive letter.
He looked toward her.