My garage camera captured her entering the driveway.
A neighbor's security camera showed her arriving before the recovery crew began moving equipment.
And the recovery company's own records contained communications concerning the disposal order.
The president's lawyer tried to characterize the incident as a misunderstanding involving competing interpretations of HOA enforcement authority.
My attorney listened politely.
Then asked for the document showing I surrendered the car.
The lawyer produced the disposal release.
My attorney examined it.
Then compared the signature with authenticated examples of mine.
She didn't immediately accuse anyone of forgery.
She asked for the original form, its creation history, and the records showing when and how it was signed.
The president's lawyer said he'd need to obtain that information.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
The original signed document couldn't be produced.
Instead, the recovery company supplied an electronic copy transmitted from an email address associated with the HOA president's private administrative account.
My attorney looked toward me.
For a moment, she seemed almost grimly satisfied.
"We're getting closer to the source."
I nodded.
But I wasn't smiling.
Because someone had used my name to authorize the destruction of my father's car.
And I wanted to know exactly who.
The recovery company's dispatcher eventually gave a formal statement.
She explained that the president called the office and requested emergency disposal of a vehicle she described as abandoned scrap.
The dispatcher asked for ownership documentation.
The president said the HOA possessed authority to act.
Then she sent the packet.
The dispatcher forwarded it to the supervisor assigned to the job.
The supervisor noticed that the purported release included my name but didn't contain the usual supporting identification or title-transfer documentation.
He contacted the president.
She insisted the authorization was sufficient.
Then she offered an additional fee for same-day completion.
The dispatcher remembered the amount.
It was far higher than the ordinary fee for removing an abandoned vehicle.
The payment was to come from a special HOA enforcement account.
The company accepted.
Its decision would later become central to the dispute.
A professional recovery business couldn't reasonably assume that a neighborhood association had unlimited authority to destroy privately owned vehicles based solely on an unverified form.
The relationship with the president didn't remove the need for proper documentation.
And the presence of a preservation tag should have raised further questions.
The dispatcher also disclosed something else.
The recovery company's owner was the president's brother-in-law.
He had been involved in the decision to accept the job.
My attorney studied the records.