The president replied that Willow Brook Estates had recently introduced a voluntary Premium Parcel Protection Program.
According to the promotional material, participating residents could pay a monthly fee to have packages collected from designated areas, transported to a secure community location, and released at convenient times.
The brochure featured photographs of smiling homeowners receiving luxury shopping bags from uniformed attendants.
It looked professionally designed.
It also seemed unnecessarily complicated.
We lived in a neighborhood where most people had garages, front doors, and ordinary delivery options. I wasn't sure why residents needed to pay an extra fee for somebody to move packages from one place to another.
I declined.
The president responded.
Participation is strongly encouraged for households experiencing repeated delivery issues.
I stared at the sentence.
Then I wrote back.
Thank you. I'll continue using the delivery services I've already selected.
I thought that would be the end of it.
Three days later, another package disappeared.
And this time, the HOA president herself appeared in the security recording.
I remember the exact moment I recognized her.
The recording was from a Tuesday afternoon, shortly after three. The sky was bright, and a long shadow stretched across our driveway from the oak tree near the sidewalk. A delivery driver placed a medium-sized box beside the front door, photographed it, and walked away.
Twelve minutes later, the HOA president approached.
She wasn't wearing a hat.
She wasn't trying to hide her face.
Her platinum-blonde bob moved slightly in the breeze, and she wore a cream blazer over dark trousers. Her oversized sunglasses covered much of her face, but I recognized the distinctive haircut, gold jewelry, and confident walk immediately.
She stopped beside the package.
Looked at the shipping label.
Then lifted it from the porch.
For several seconds, she stood near the doorway with the box in her hands. She glanced toward the street, adjusted her handbag, and walked away.
I watched the recording again.
Then a third time.
The package contained a pair of headphones I'd ordered for work.
It was addressed to me.
There was no question about whose porch she'd visited.
And I couldn't imagine what legitimate HOA business would require the president to remove a privately addressed delivery without telling the homeowner.
I saved the recording.
Then I called the community office.
The receptionist answered.
I asked whether the association had collected a parcel from my property that afternoon.
There was a pause.
"Are you enrolled in Premium Parcel Protection?"
"No."
"Then we wouldn't normally collect anything."
I looked at the video paused on my computer.
"Does the president sometimes collect packages herself?"
Another pause.
"I'm not sure."
"Could you ask her?"
The receptionist sounded uncomfortable.