“What did he do?”
Brenda answered instantly.
“He challenged me.”
Monroe waited.
“What specific action?”
“He became confrontational.”
“What did he physically do?”
“He questioned my authority.”
Monroe remained silent.
Derrick recognized the problem immediately.
Adjectives.
Aggressive.
Confrontational.
Hostile.
Difficult.
Words that sounded serious until someone asked for verbs.
Monroe asked, “Did he threaten you?”
Brenda hesitated.
“Not directly.”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
“Block you from leaving?”
“No.”
“Damage anything?”
“No.”
“Display a weapon?”
“No.”
“Approach you after being told to stay back?”
“No.”
Brenda’s frustration increased with every answer.
“He was disrespectful.”
Monroe nodded.
“That’s not a crime.”
Brenda’s face flushed.
Derrick expected the confrontation to end there.
It did not.
Because Brenda had said something far more important than anything involving free fuel.
She had said Fairmont Ridge had paid Lawson Energy & Fleet Services for years.
Derrick knew that was false.
Not because he remembered every customer.
He did not.
Lawson Energy had thousands of accounts.
But Fairmont Ridge was his own HOA.
The name would have caught his attention.
More importantly, residential homeowner associations were not part of the company’s normal customer base.
Derrick waited until Officer Monroe finished speaking with Brenda.
Then he asked a simple question.
“You said the HOA has been paying Lawson Energy for an emergency fuel reserve.”
Brenda stiffened.
“That’s association business.”
“You involved my company’s name in a police report.”
“It’s in our budget.”
“What account number?”
“I don’t memorize account numbers.”
“What invoices?”
“Ask the treasurer.”
“What fuel has the HOA received?”
Brenda’s expression became defensive.
“That’s not relevant.”
Derrick nodded slowly.
“It wasn’t relevant when you wanted ten gallons from me.”
Monroe looked between them.
Brenda said, “I am leaving.”
Derrick stepped aside immediately.
“Please do.”
She marched down the driveway.
Before reaching the sidewalk, she turned.
“This isn’t over.”
Derrick looked at the security camera.
“No.”
He glanced back at her.
“I don’t think it is.”
That evening, Derrick called Lawson Energy’s chief financial officer, Marisol Vega.
Marisol had worked with him for eighteen years and had no patience for vague questions.
“What exactly am I looking for?” she asked.
“Fairmont Ridge Homeowners Association.”
“Customer?”
“Supposedly.”
“Supposedly is not an accounting category.”
“Search everything.”
Marisol typed.
Derrick could hear keys through the phone.
“Fairmont Ridge, Plano?”
“Yes.”
“No direct customer account.”
“Search Ashworth.”
“Person or company?”
“Both.”
More typing.
“Nothing matching the HOA.”
“Emergency fuel reserve.”
“No.”
“Maybe through a contractor.”
“That could take longer.”
“Take longer.”
Marisol paused.
“What happened?”
“Our HOA president demanded free gas from my pump.”
Silence.
Then Marisol laughed so loudly Derrick had to move the phone away from his ear.
“She did what?”
“She says the association pays Lawson Energy for community fuel access.”
Marisol stopped laughing.
“That’s not funny.”
“I know.”
“Send me whatever documents you have.”
“I don’t have them yet.”
“Then get them.”
The next morning, Derrick emailed the HOA management office.
His message contained no accusation.
He requested copies of the previous five years of records for any payment, invoice, contract, reimbursement, vendor arrangement, fuel reserve, emergency fuel program, or other expense referencing Lawson Energy & Fleet Services.
He copied his attorney, Rachel Kimball.
Rachel called him eleven minutes later.
“You want to tell me why your HOA president thinks she has a fuel contract with your company?”
“I’d like her to tell both of us.”
Rachel had represented Derrick during a separate property-boundary dispute two years earlier.
She knew Fairmont Ridge.
She knew Brenda.
More importantly, she knew Derrick.
“Don’t call her directly,” Rachel said.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Preserve your camera footage.”
“Already downloaded.”
“Police incident number?”
Derrick gave it to her.
“Good.”
She paused.
“Do you think this is fraud?”
“I think Brenda said something false.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know.”
Derrick looked out his office window.
“I don’t know what it is yet.”
Rachel approved.
“Good answer.”
Three days later, the HOA responded.
The management office sent forty-three pages of financial documents.
There were landscaping invoices.
Insurance bills.
Pool maintenance for the community pool.
Tree trimming.
Gate repair.
Legal expenses.
And a line item appearing every quarter:
Emergency Mobility and Fuel Reserve.
The amounts varied.
$3,800.
$4,150.
$3,950.
$4,600.
Over five years, the charges totaled more than seventy-eight thousand dollars.
The vendor was listed as North Texas Community Response Services LLC.
Derrick had never heard of it.
But several supporting sheets included a description:
Regional fuel availability maintained through Lawson network.
Derrick stared at the sentence.
Rachel read it twice.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing in our terminology.”
“Could a reseller use your network?”
“Possibly.”
“Could this company?”
“We’ll find out.”
Marisol ran the vendor information.
North Texas Community Response Services was not an authorized Lawson Energy reseller.
It had no fleet-card relationship.
No reserve contract.
No emergency allocation.
No bulk account.
No service agreement.
Nothing.
Derrick asked Marisol to search payment histories for the company owners.
An hour later she called.
“Found something.”
“What?”
“The LLC’s registered manager is Calvin Ashworth.”
Derrick closed his eyes.
Brenda’s husband.
Rachel heard the name and immediately said, “Stop.”
Derrick looked at her.
She continued.
“We do not jump from family relationship to conclusion.”
“I know.”
“Write down exactly what we have.”