She promised to provide it.
Then she sent a packet bearing the HOA's letterhead.
Inside were copies of violation notices.
A purported board authorization.
And a vehicle-disposal form containing a signature that was supposed to represent mine.
I had never signed that form.
I hadn't seen it.
And I hadn't authorized anyone to destroy my father's car.
But someone had placed a signature beside my printed name.
The date was two days earlier.
The document stated that I voluntarily relinquished the vehicle for disposal and acknowledged that it had no recoverable collector value.
That last phrase would later become important.
Because whoever prepared the document wasn't merely claiming the association could remove the car.
They were attempting to establish that the owner had surrendered an allegedly worthless vehicle.
And that false premise was exactly what the president needed.
The transport company holding the Phoenix was scheduled to collect it after the garage floor passed its final inspection.
But that morning, the preservation crew received an unexpected message.
Someone claiming to represent the property owner instructed them to release the vehicle to Premier Recovery and Disposal.
The preservation supervisor refused.
He contacted me using the number listed in our original agreement.
I was driving to a meeting with an industrial client.
I answered through my vehicle's hands-free system.
The supervisor explained the request.
For a moment, I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Absolutely not."
He confirmed that no transfer would occur without my written authorization and independent verification.
I thanked him.
Then called my attorney.
She advised me to return home and document any attempted interference.
I turned around.
But by the time I reached the neighborhood, the situation had changed.
Premier's heavy recovery truck was already parked outside my house.
The preservation trailer was open.
And the Phoenix was no longer inside it.
The sequence became clear only after investigators reviewed the recordings.
Premier's crew arrived with paperwork claiming the vehicle had been surrendered for disposal.
The preservation supervisor initially refused.
Then a woman claiming to be the HOA president arrived and insisted the recovery company had superior authorization.
The crew argued.
The supervisor requested verification.
And the president became increasingly aggressive.
She claimed the vehicle was creating a safety hazard and that the association possessed emergency enforcement authority.
She also threatened to report the preservation company for interfering with an authorized removal.
The supervisor called his company's legal department.
During the dispute, Premier's workers began positioning equipment near the trailer.
One crew member later admitted he knew the release paperwork was unusual.