And every person involved deserved a fair process.
Even the woman who had thrown my decoy box across the driveway.
The emergency HOA meeting took place four days later.
The clubhouse was packed.
I had never seen so many residents attend an association meeting. People stood along the walls, crowded near the doorway, and filled every chair. Several carried folders containing missing-delivery complaints and invoices from the parcel protection service.
The HOA president arrived late.
She wore a cream-colored suit.
Her platinum-blonde bob was perfectly styled, and her oversized sunglasses rested on top of her head.
But she couldn't completely hide the faint purple discoloration around her fingernails.
When she placed her hands on the table, I noticed several people looking at them.
She folded them in her lap.
The meeting began with the vice president explaining that the board had received multiple complaints concerning the parcel program and had retained an independent accountant to review financial records.
The president immediately objected.
"This is unnecessary."
The vice president looked toward her.
"The board voted to proceed."
She lifted her chin.
"Based on rumors."
The treasurer spoke.
"Based on financial questions we haven't been able to resolve."
The president turned sharply.
"You've been undermining me for weeks."
The treasurer remained calm.
"I've been asking for invoices and inventory records."
Several residents nodded.
The president looked toward the audience.
"This entire situation has been stirred up by one disgruntled homeowner."
I knew she meant me.
I remained seated.
My wife touched my hand.
Then a woman in the second row stood.
"Excuse me."
The vice president recognized her.
She held up a printed delivery confirmation.
"I subscribed to your program because you said it would protect my packages."
The president smiled tightly.
"And it has."
The woman shook her head.
"No. I paid for three months, and your office still can't tell me where a birthday gift for my grandson went."
The president's expression changed.
She started to answer.
But another resident stood.
"My hearing-aid accessories disappeared too."
Then another.
"My baby's monitor."
A man near the back raised his hand.
"I've been asking for a receipt for six weeks."
The room became noisy.
The vice president asked everyone to remain calm.
The president struck the table with her palm.
"This is exactly why we need better neighborhood standards!"
I looked toward her.
She continued.
"People leave packages everywhere, ignore security procedures, and then expect the HOA to solve their problems."
The treasurer slowly stood.
She held up a folder.
"Then please explain why we've paid for processing more packages than the enrolled households reported receiving."
The president froze.
The room became quiet.
For several seconds, she didn't answer.