"Why?"
"She said they were problem homeowners."
"Did she explain the violations?"
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"Sometimes she didn't."
Daniel looked at the records.
"Did she ever tell you not to tow someone?"
Robert thought.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"A developer."
Daniel looked up.
"A developer?"
Robert nodded.
"There was a contractor's truck that parked in a homeowner's driveway."
"Was it violating HOA rules?"
"Probably."
"But?"
"Patricia told us not to touch it."
"Why?"
"She said it was authorized."
Daniel stared at him.
"Who authorized it?"
Robert shrugged.
"She did."
"Did the homeowner know?"
"I don't know."
Daniel leaned forward.
"What else?"
Robert rubbed his hands together.
"One night she asked us to remove a boat."
"From whose property?"
"Number seventy-four."
Daniel knew the address.
"That's the old Peterson property."
Robert nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"She said the owner refused to sign an access agreement."
Daniel felt his jaw tighten.
"Did you tow the boat?"
Robert looked down.
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"The owner paid the storage fees."
"Then what?"
"He signed."
The room went quiet.
Daniel looked at Samuel's notes.
"That's enough."
Robert looked relieved.
But Daniel wasn't.
Because the pattern was no longer a theory.
It was a system.
Someone had discovered that an HOA could create financial pressure without ever appearing to threaten anyone directly.
A violation notice.
A towing order.
A storage bill.
A deadline.
A homeowner eventually gave in.
Daniel looked at Marcus.
"How much did we make from those tows?"
Marcus checked the records.
"About eighty-two thousand dollars."
Daniel stared at him.
"From HOA-related calls?"
"Yes."
"How much did the HOA charge homeowners?"
Marcus looked again.
"More than three hundred thousand."
Daniel slowly exhaled.
There it was.
The money.
The incentive.
The mechanism.
And suddenly the pink Porsche made even more sense.
Patricia hadn't merely wanted Emily's car removed.
She wanted Daniel to feel pressure.
But she had made one mistake.
She had chosen the wrong driveway.
Because the tow truck belonged to the very person she was trying to pressure.
Daniel stood.
"Call Samuel."
Marcus nodded.
"Already did."
Daniel looked at him.
"What?"
"He said he'd be here in twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes later, Samuel Reed entered the conference room carrying a laptop and a thin black folder.
He looked at the records.
Then at Robert.
Then at Daniel.
"You were right."
Daniel said nothing.