The flowerpot hit the sliding glass door hard enough to make the entire wall seem to jump.
The Black homeowner instinctively stepped backward.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then a pale spiderweb of cracks exploded across the center of the glass.
The sound carried through the living room like a gunshot.
Outside on the rear patio, the HOA president stared through the fractured pane at him.
She was still holding the broken ceramic base in one hand.
Her platinum-blonde hair had partly fallen from its loose clip. Her expensive floral blouse was wrinkled from the effort. Oversized sunglasses hid most of her eyes, but they could not hide the anger twisting the lower half of her face.
The homeowner looked at the shattered flowerpot.
Then at the thick manila folder pressed against his chest.
Then back at her.
“What are you doing?”
The HOA president threw what remained of the flowerpot onto the patio.
“Give me the file.”
He almost thought he had misheard her.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
She seized the black handle of the sliding door.
The door was locked.
She pulled once.
Hard.
Then again.
The homeowner did not move toward her.
That restraint was deliberate.
Two small security cameras beneath the rear eaves were recording.
Another camera inside the living room faced the patio.
A fourth camera sat above the hallway entrance.
He had learned months earlier that when the HOA president lost control of a conversation, she became very interested in describing afterward what someone else had supposedly done.
So he kept his hands visible.
“You’re on private property.”
“I am the association president.”
“That doesn’t give you permission to break my door.”
“Those documents belong to the association.”
“No.”
“They contain confidential material.”
“They contain copies of records homeowners are legally entitled to inspect.”
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
The word copies bothered her.
She did not ask what he meant.
Instead she kicked the bottom of the door.
The metal frame shuddered.
“Stop.”
“Open it.”
“No.”
She kicked again.
One of the cracked sections of glass shifted in its frame.
The homeowner lifted his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
The HOA president leaned toward the damaged pane.
“If you hand that folder to anyone, you are going to regret it.”
He stared at her.
She lowered her voice.
“You think you found something important?”