"Correct."
"Jesus. Okay, well, first of all, what she's asking would violate about six different sections of the electrical code. Second, if she's trying to compel you to create an unsafe condition, that might actually be criminal coercion. Third, and this is the important part: you need to document everything. Save all emails, texts, record conversations if Arizona allows it."
"It's a one-party consent state."
"Good. Record everything. And Daniel, if she actually tries to enforce these made-up fines, that might constitute fraud or extortion. You might want to talk to the police."
"Thanks, Tom. I'll keep you posted."
I ended the call and looked at Patricia, who was now visibly sweating. "That was my supervisor at the city inspection office. He's very interested in what's happening here."
"You can't intimidate me," Patricia said, but her voice had lost its edge. "The HOA has legal authority over this community."
"The HOA has the authority granted to it by its governing documents and within the bounds of state and federal law. It doesn't have the authority to compel residents to create electrical hazards, or to make up fake violations with real financial penalties. That actually might be fraud."
Margaret whispered something to Patricia, but Patricia shook her head stubbornly. "We'll see what the full board has to say about this. I'm calling an emergency meeting for tomorrow morning."
"You do that. I'll be there."
They left, and I went back inside to check on my generator. It was running smoothly, my fuel tank still three-quarters full. I had enough gas to run for another 48 hours if needed, though I hoped the power would be back long before then.
I spent the rest of the afternoon documenting everything: I pulled up the HOA bylaws and governing documents, highlighting the relevant sections; I saved Patricia's email demanding I power her hot tub; I wrote down the timeline of events and the names of everyone who'd been on my porch.