He gave me the number for the nonemergency line and told me to call dispatch if equipment began moving toward the gate. Deputy Marcus Hill came in while we were talking and looked at Robert's survey. He asked whether the boundary stakes were current and whether Robert's report had a professional seal. When I showed him both, he nodded and made a copy for the incident file.
"A foreman can say the work is approved because he's seen a permit," Marcus said. "That doesn't mean he knows what was recorded against the land. We should give the workers a chance to verify before anybody tries to move a machine through a gate."
I liked that answer. It recognized that most of the people operating the heavy equipment were there to earn their wages, not to argue over real estate law. If Margaret wanted to stage a confrontation, I did not have to help her turn ordinary tradespeople into enemies. I only needed to make sure everybody knew where the property line stood and what permission had been withheld.
I left the sheriff's office with copies of the letter and the survey in the passenger seat. The drive home took me past Northridge's main entrance. There was a banner advertising a community technology celebration scheduled for the following month, with Margaret's name printed beneath the words as guest speaker. I wondered how many promises she had already made publicly about a project she still could not connect to power.
Susan called that night. She had obtained the most recent HOA meeting minutes and noticed that an emergency executive session had been held to address what the board called external obstruction. Several expenditures had been approved without a clear explanation to homeowners. There were additional legal fees, consultants' retainers, and a proposed reserve transfer described only as an infrastructure completion expense.
"I don't want to accuse anybody of stealing money," she said. "I don't have evidence of that. I do want to know why a supposedly secured route requires all these lawyers and emergency expenses."
"That seems fair."
"Margaret says she's protecting the association from your legal threats. But when I asked which threat you made, she gave me the letter from your attorney requesting they stay off the ranch."
I laughed once, not because it was funny but because the logic was so complete. She had entered without permission, and then treated my attempt to prevent more entry as evidence that I was dangerous. Susan told me she was collecting signatures for a special information meeting under the association's bylaws. I offered her copies of the documents she needed, but she declined anything that could be described as my organizing the residents against their president.
"Let the homeowners ask their own questions," she said. "If Margaret is telling the truth, she'll have no difficulty answering. If she isn't, we need to find that out ourselves."
We met again at a diner near the highway a few days later because she wanted to show me what the board had already told its membership. She carried financial summaries, meeting minutes, and an agenda for a special board session. The projected revenue from the data center was not as simple as the brochures suggested. The HOA's direct involvement included utility preparation commitments and a promised share of certain service income, but several liabilities could fall on residents if the project missed deadlines or required expensive modifications.