Richard looked genuinely surprised. "We mow it."
"I understand."
"Our landscaping contractor maintains the whole entrance."
The officer nodded. "And the city might still own the parcel. Those aren't mutually exclusive facts."
I said nothing. There wasn't much to add to a sentence that addressed the exact disagreement. Richard's expression became tighter, and he stepped back toward Linda, who was watching intently from the path.
The officer looked through the binder once more. "How long did you spend on this?"
"A week or so, including confirming the relevant guidance."
"You spent a week checking a boundary because somebody told you not to grill?"
"No," I replied.
Richard, who had remained within hearing distance, gave a faint, triumphant smile. He appeared to think I was about to say the quiet part of a mischievous plan out loud. I looked at him, then back at the officer.
"I spent the week checking because the board told me to follow the rules and threatened police action if I didn't. I wanted to know exactly what the rules required."
The officer's partner, walking up behind us, turned his head briefly away. His shoulders shook once. I wasn't trying to make a joke, but I couldn't deny that the logic had developed a certain flavor of its own.
The two officers reviewed the information together. One contacted dispatch to check a record, and the other compared the municipal parcel shown in the city's public information with the physical location we could all see. The minutes passed slowly. A few people coming and going from the pool glanced at the patrol cars but kept moving when it became obvious nobody was in immediate danger.
Linda remained near Richard, arms crossed, speaking under her breath. At one point I heard her say, "He's trying to manipulate this," as if reading the boundary that defined her organization's property were itself a form of deception. I concentrated on the food. A hamburger patty was ready to turn, and unlike the HOA, it couldn't wait indefinitely for somebody to finish discussing jurisdiction.
At last, the first officer came back. "The available property records support what Mr. Dalton is saying. This strip is municipal land, separate from the HOA parcel."
Linda took two steps forward. "That's impossible."
"That's what the records show."
"The boundary is farther out."
"Do you have a recorded document showing that?"
"We've maintained the grass here for nine years."
"Ma'am, maintenance and ownership aren't necessarily the same thing."
"We pay the landscaping company."
"That still isn't proof the association owns the parcel."
She looked toward Richard for support. Richard accepted the plat when the officer offered it and studied it closely. I could see him matching the angle of the boundary line to the access road. The uncertainty that had appeared when he first saw my binder deepened into a look of real concern. He had probably repeated Linda's claim for years without ever checking the legal description.
Then he changed direction.
"Fine," he said. "Even if the city owns it, he can't operate an open flame here. We have safety regulations."