“Again, no.”
“You do not own the clubhouse.”
Daniel looked toward the building.
Then back at her.
“I didn’t come here to argue about it in the parking lot.”
“Good.”
“I came because your board ignored three letters from my attorney.”
Karen’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
Daniel noticed.
The letters had been sent certified.
One in June.
One in July.
One in September.
Each addressed to the HOA board and its management company.
Each explaining that Willow Creek Estates was occupying a parcel recorded in Daniel’s name and requesting a meeting regarding an expired ground lease.
Karen had signed for the second letter herself.
She knew exactly why he was there.
That was part of the problem.
“We referred those letters to management,” she said.
“Management referred them back to the board.”
“Our attorney is reviewing them.”
“Your attorney emailed mine last week saying the board hadn’t authorized him to review the ownership issue.”
Karen’s eyes narrowed.
“That is privileged communication.”
“No. It was an email sent to my attorney.”
She shifted the folder beneath her arm.
“Regardless, you cannot simply arrive during a private board meeting.”
“I emailed yesterday.”
“We did not approve your attendance.”
“I don’t need board permission to stand on my own parcel.”
“There you go again.”
Karen pulled out her phone.
Daniel watched her.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling law enforcement.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
The answer stopped her.
“You’re okay with that?”
“Yes.”
She seemed almost disappointed.
Daniel leaned against his truck.
“Tell them I’ll wait.”
Karen dialed.
Her voice changed immediately when the dispatcher answered.
Calmer.
More official.
“Yes, hello. My name is Karen Whitfield. I’m president of Willow Creek Estates HOA.”
Pause.
“We have an individual refusing to leave private association property.”
Daniel looked toward the clubhouse.
Harold Simmons had walked a little closer.
Patricia followed.
Karen continued.
“Yes, he has been previously notified.”
Another pause.
“No, he is not a resident.”
She looked directly at Daniel.
“He claims he owns the property.”
Daniel almost smiled.
At least that part was accurate.
Karen listened.
“Yes. We would like him removed.”
Daniel opened the tailgate of his truck and sat on it.
That irritated her more than anything else he could have done.
“Do not go anywhere,” she said after ending the call.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
“Because six months ago my attorney told me eventually somebody would have to read the deed.”
Karen turned away.
Daniel watched her walk toward the clubhouse.
He did not blame her entirely.
That was something he had spent several months learning.
Willow Creek Estates had existed for twenty-two years.
Most current residents had moved in long after the development was completed.
The clubhouse had been standing almost as long.
There was a swimming pool.
A meeting hall.
Small fitness room.
Management office.
Storage shed.
Everybody treated the building as association property because everybody had always treated it as association property.
That was usually enough for daily life.
It was not enough for a title company.
Daniel had discovered that after his father died.
His father, Raymond Mercer, passed away eleven months earlier at seventy-seven.