Not because I posted the footage online.
I didn't.
My attorney had advised me to preserve the recording and avoid broadcasting evidence while the investigation was active.
But neighbors saw the sheriff's vehicles.
Some heard Patricia shouting.
Others saw her leave under the deputies' supervision.
And by evening, the private neighborhood message groups were full of questions.
What happened at the pool on Sagebrush Court?
Was the HOA president arrested?
Does anyone know whether a homeowner was injured?
Why were sheriff's deputies at the Holloway house later?
I received messages from people who had ignored my earlier requests for information.
Some were curious.
Some were frightened.
And a few were suddenly eager to tell me how much they had always disliked Patricia.
I tried not to confuse those reactions with support.
People sometimes changed their opinions quickly when they thought a powerful person had lost influence.
I wanted facts.
So when neighbors contacted me, I gave them the same answer.
There had been an incident involving unauthorized entry and intentional pool contamination.
The sheriff's office was investigating.
I had provided my statement and relevant evidence.
And anyone with information about similar incidents should contact the investigators directly.
That was all.
I didn't discuss charges.
Didn't speculate about motives.
Didn't publish names of people who had not consented to publicity.
And didn't turn the investigation into a neighborhood popularity contest.
But that didn't stop the rumors.
By Monday, one resident claimed Patricia had been caught stealing cash from the clubhouse safe.
Another insisted she had tried to attack me with a shovel.
A third claimed the fertilizer contained a deadly poison.
None of those claims came from me.
None had been established.
And several were plainly false.
I found the rumors frustrating.
Not because I wanted to protect Patricia's reputation.
Because exaggerated stories could distract from what the evidence actually showed.
A person had climbed a locked private fence without permission.
Deliberately put lawn fertilizer into a swimming pool.
Threatened the homeowner with association enforcement.
And appeared to have arranged a cleanup before the contamination occurred.
Those facts were serious enough.
They didn't need embellishment.
On Monday afternoon, my attorney called.
She had spoken with investigators about the appropriate process for obtaining and preserving evidence related to the damage.
She also wanted me to arrange professional testing and remediation of the pool.
I had already contacted an independent contractor.
He arrived later that day.
His name was David Flores, a fifty-year-old pool service professional with more than twenty-five years of experience maintaining residential and commercial aquatic facilities.
He walked into the backyard carrying protective equipment and testing supplies.
Then stopped beside the water.
For several seconds, he stared.
Finally, he looked toward me.
"Somebody deliberately put fertilizer in here?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
He looked toward the shallow end.
"Why?"
I gave a tired laugh.
"That's a long story."
David crouched beside the pool.
He examined the visible residue without touching the water directly.
Then asked what type of fertilizer had been used.
I showed him a photograph of the bag.