Then pointed toward a vote recorded six months earlier.
According to the official minutes, the board unanimously approved a $42,000 landscaping enhancement contract.
But her original notes showed that the board voted only to request competitive proposals.
No final contract had been approved.
The homeowner examined the pages.
"Are you certain?"
She nodded.
"I took the notes myself."
He compared the documents.
"Who changed the minutes?"
The secretary looked down.
"The president sent revised copies after the meeting."
"Did the board approve the revisions?"
She shook her head.
"Not properly."
He sat back.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then asked, "Does this happen often?"
The secretary opened another folder.
A security services approval.
A pool maintenance contract.
An emergency repair authorization.
Several contained changes she could not reconcile with her notes.
The homeowner studied the records.
Then looked toward her.
"Why are you telling me?"
Her eyes filled.
For a moment, she could not answer.
Then she whispered, "Because I've been signing the minutes."
The room grew quiet.
She continued.
"I thought the president was correcting the language."
Her voice trembled.
"Sometimes she said I forgot something. Sometimes she said a vote occurred after I left."
She looked down.
"And I believed her."
The homeowner listened.
The secretary wiped her eyes.
"But now I think I've been helping her create a record of things the board never approved."
He considered carefully.
Then spoke.
"Have you brought these concerns to the other directors?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"One said it wasn't worth fighting over. Another said the president probably remembered correctly."
She swallowed.
"The treasurer told me to stop asking questions."
The homeowner looked toward the documents.
Then back at her.
"You need independent legal advice about your responsibilities as secretary."
She nodded.
"I know."
He continued.
"And these records should be preserved in their original form."
She looked frightened.
"Do you think I've done something criminal?"
He did not pretend to know.
"I can't determine that from this conversation."
Her expression softened slightly.
"But if the records are inaccurate, correcting them matters. And documenting how the changes happened matters too."
She nodded slowly.
Then she opened one final folder.
Inside was a payment summary.
The homeowner scanned it.
His expression changed.
The son's maintenance company had received more than $170,000 in association payments over a period of less than two years.
Several were described as emergency services.
Others as recurring maintenance.
A few appeared to overlap with work already assigned to a separate landscaping contractor.
He looked up.
"Has the board reviewed these invoices?"
The secretary shook her head.
"Not all of them."
"Who authorized payment?"
Her eyes filled again.
Then she whispered, "The president."
For several seconds, the homeowner remained silent.
Then he looked at the total.