I looked at the third item and wondered whether Victoria thought that naming an action "temporary" made it less extraordinary.
"This meeting has been called to protect Willowbrook from outside interference," she began, looking at me rather than the assembled board. "Certain residents have been circulating unfounded allegations that threaten our reputation and potentially expose the association to legal liability."
Nadia raised a hand. "For the record, I'm here as counsel for several members. I'd like the meeting notice and any legal basis for suspending their record-inspection rights included in the minutes."
Victoria's smile became rigid. "You may observe. You may not direct association business."
"I'm not directing it. I'm asking that the basis for an extraordinary proposal be recorded."
The treasurer, Walter Keene, shifted in his chair. He was a retired sales executive who had joined the board because Victoria promised the work would involve only a few meetings each year. Since then, he had signed payment approvals and financial summaries without asking many questions. I could see he was beginning to regret the arrangement.
"Do we have an opinion from our attorney?" Walter asked.
Victoria tapped the agenda. "The association has been advised that immediate action is appropriate."
"By whom?"
"Our legal representatives."
"Can we see the advice?"
"It's privileged."
The room went quiet. Victoria had counted on everyone treating the word privileged as a door that closed the discussion. Instead, Walter wrote something in his notebook and asked another question.
"Are we voting to destroy any records?"
"Of course not," she snapped. "We're centralizing them so unauthorized people can't manipulate our files."
Mrs. Patterson, seated at the end of the board table, cleared her throat. "Some of those files are required to be maintained by the association. We don't have a retention schedule approving their removal from the office."
Victoria turned on her. "Evelyn, you've been secretary long enough to understand the president's authority."
"I've been secretary long enough to understand what happens when we stop keeping minutes," Mrs. Patterson replied.
Nobody moved. I had known her as the woman who delivered Christmas cards to neighbors who couldn't leave their homes. I had never seen her speak to Victoria like that.
The motion to terminate the management company failed to receive the necessary support. Two members abstained, and Walter insisted on postponing the records proposal until the association's own attorney provided written guidance. Victoria ended the meeting abruptly, announcing that further discussion would only encourage "outside agitators."
As we left, I saw Randy standing by the office door with a cardboard storage box in his hands. When he noticed Nadia, he set it down quickly and walked away. I didn't know what had been in the box. I reported exactly what I had seen, nothing more.
That afternoon, Mrs. Patterson sent me a message: several document folders had been moved from the office storeroom during the meeting despite the failed motion. The clubhouse security system had captured staff entering and leaving. Nadia immediately sent a preservation notice to the association, the management company, and the security contractor.