She looked down at her tea. "When the lake started rising, I assumed the paperwork had been completed. I should have asked to see it."
I understood the admission better than she probably expected. On my farm, I could not personally inspect every fitting Sam installed or every box the packing crew loaded. I delegated work because no one person could run an operation alone. But delegation was not a substitute for verifying the expensive, consequential steps. A treasurer who had demanded final paperwork when the vote was taken had trusted that the president would follow the condition.
"What happened to the twelve thousand dollars?" I asked.
"That's the thing. Nothing happened to it. No check to you, no electronic transfer, no escrow deposit. I reviewed our bank account and general ledger yesterday. There is no payment."
"What did get paid?"
"Nine thousand six hundred to Whitaker Excavation, coded as landscaping maintenance. Denise approved the invoice under a spending category she could authorize without a full board vote."
I let the numbers sit between us. Twelve thousand dollars was the amount Denise claimed I had received. Nine thousand six hundred was what the HOA had actually spent to connect the pipe. Sixty thousand was the estimated price of obtaining water legally. They were not interchangeable figures, and I did not want them blended into a story so confusing that anyone could later say all the accounting was a matter of opinion.
Linda had not brought confidential association records to hand over casually. She told me their attorney was already instructing the board to preserve contracts, budgets, emails, camera footage, and meeting minutes. My attorney, Rachel Morgan, would receive the relevant records through proper requests. I was grateful that Linda understood the distinction. The last thing I needed was one questionable document followed by a stack of others obtained in a way the other side could challenge.
"What are the residents saying?" I asked.
Linda gave a weary little laugh. "Half of them think you're holding the lake hostage. A quarter think Denise should resign before anybody sees an invoice. The rest want to know whether the fountain can still run for the home tour."
"It can run on whatever water belongs to the lake."
"That's what I told them."
After we parted, I called Rachel from the parking lot. She had represented our orchard in a boundary dispute years earlier and understood that water conflicts could generate more paper than a person expected. She listened while I described Linda's account, then asked me to send the first day's photographs, the purported transfer authorization, the district notice, and the timestamps from the second night's alarm.
"Don't contact Denise directly again," she advised. "Not because you have anything to hide. Because everything you say is likely to end up filtered through somebody else. Let me talk to the association's counsel."
"She's telling residents I took their money."
"We can correct that with evidence. Your bank records will speak to whether twelve thousand dollars arrived. Their records will speak to whether they sent it. No point arguing at the dock."