"Then I'm going to need you to have these workers stop what they're doing until we can verify the situation." The officer looked at the men, who had already stopped working and were standing around awkwardly. "Who hired you guys?"
The older of the two workers spoke up. "The HOA. We got a call saying they needed a generator removed. We figured it was legitimate."
"Do you have the work order?"
He pulled out his phone and showed the officer. It was an email from Margaret Walsh's HOA email address.
"Okay. Here's what's going to happen," the officer said. "You're going to leave that generator exactly as you found it. If there's a legitimate dispute about HOA rules, that needs to be worked out through proper channels, not by hiring workers to remove someone's property."
"But the HOA has the authority to enforce its rules," Patricia protested.
"Not by seizing property without due process, you don't. Even if the installation was unauthorized—which these documents suggest it wasn't—you'd need to go through the courts. You can't just show up and take someone's stuff."
The other officer had been taking notes. "Ma'am, we could actually charge you with attempted theft. The only reason we're not is because there seems to be some genuine confusion about HOA rules, but I'm warning you now: do not try this again."
Patricia's face was red with anger and embarrassment. "This is harassment! I'm trying to do my job as HOA president!"
"Your job doesn't include authorizing what amounts to theft. If you have an issue with this gentleman's generator, take it up through proper legal channels."
The officers made sure the workers reconnected everything they'd disconnected, then took statements from everyone involved. They gave me a case number and told me to contact them if there were any further incidents.
After everyone left, I sat on my back porch and looked at my generator, which was humming along peacefully in test mode. This had gone way beyond HOA overreach: Patricia had actually tried to have my property stolen.