“No.”
“Written parking agreement?”
“No.”
“Lease?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
“No.”
He sighed.
“Where is she?”
“Probably home.”
Martinez called.
Brenda arrived eight minutes later.
She came fast.
Heels clicking across concrete.
Designer sunglasses.
Pink blazer.
Clipboard.
I had started recognizing that clipboard as a warning sign.
“Officer.”
She said.
“Thank you.”
“I assume Jake explained his confusion.”
Martinez looked at the garage.
“I’m not sure confusion is the word I’d use.”
“This garage is subject to temporary association access.”
“Show me.”
Brenda opened the clipboard.
She produced a typed policy.
EMERGENCY COMMUNITY PARKING PROCEDURE.
Martinez read it.
“When was this adopted?”
“We’re operating under interim authority.”
“Who approved interim authority?”
“The board has broad discretion.”
“Who owns the garage?”
Brenda pointed toward me.
“The deed is technically in his name.”
“Technically?”
“It is part of Willowbrook.”
Martinez handed the page back.
“Ma’am, I’m going to keep this simple.”
“You cannot use someone else’s garage because your driveway is inconvenient.”
“It’s not merely inconvenient.”
“I have staging clients.”
That sentence landed strangely.
Martinez noticed.
“So this isn’t HOA parking?”
“It’s both.”
“Explain.”
Brenda hesitated.
“The Mercedes belongs to a client.”
“What client?”
“My real estate client.”
Martinez turned toward me.
I stared back.
Brenda had used my emergency garage code to store a vehicle for her private real estate business.
Then fined me for the garage remaining open.
Martinez looked at the cut lock.
“Did you authorize somebody to cut this?”
Brenda said:
“The cabinet was interfering with temporary vehicle positioning.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I had it relocated.”
“You cut his lock?”
“A contractor did.”
“On your instructions?”
“I authorized necessary access.”
Martinez’s expression changed.
“Ma’am, remove both vehicles.”
“I would like to speak with your supervisor.”
“You may.”
“But the vehicles still need to leave.”
Brenda’s face flushed.
“You’re taking his side.”
“I’m taking the side of the property documents in front of me.”
Twenty minutes later, the BMW and Mercedes were gone.
Before Martinez left, he handed me an incident number.
“Keep this.”
“I will.”
“I’m guessing you keep everything.”
“You have no idea.”
He almost smiled.
I replaced the lock.
Then Derek called.
“County records.”
He said.
“Tomorrow.”
“What am I looking for?”
“HOA formation.”
“Plat.”
“Developer conveyances.”
“Insurance.”
“And Brenda’s business.”