I looked at him. He explained that several years earlier, fish from the old breeding facility had begun appearing in the HOA's drainage ponds. Rather than dealing with the issue properly, Silver Ridge had apparently been trying to remove the fish and close the old aquatic facility.
But there was a catch: the breeding stock had never legally belonged to the HOA, and according to the county records, the fish were connected to a private commercial operation.
"So they moved them here," I said.
"That's what it looks like."
"Without asking me?"
"Exactly."
I leaned back. "So Karen dumped a commercial fish population into my pond because she didn't want them in hers."
Daniel nodded. "But that's only half of it."
I knew there was more.
"There was a transfer agreement," he said.
"From who?"
"That's the problem." He turned the page. "The signature belongs to a former Riverstone manager who died twelve years ago."
I stared at the document. "And Karen used this?"
"Apparently."
Two days later, Karen returned. This time, she didn't come alone. Three men from Silver Ridge's property management company followed her through the gate. I met them at the pond.
Karen held a clipboard. "You've been notified," she said.
"About what?"
"Your responsibility for the fish population."
"I didn't put them here."
"That doesn't matter anymore."
I looked at the men. One carried a net; the other had a portable oxygen tank. "You planning to remove them?"
Karen smiled. "Exactly. From your pond, under emergency environmental authority."
I laughed. "Show me the authority."
She hesitated, then handed me a letter. It was from Silver Ridge's management company—not the county, not the wildlife department, not the state. Their own management company.
I handed it back. "This isn't authority."
Karen's face tightened. "Robert, we're trying to protect the community."
"No, you're trying to clean up your problem."
She stepped closer. "You don't understand what you're dealing with."