He didn't react. Then he asked a simple question: "Did Summit Ridge authorize you to perform field enforcement?"
Karen opened her mouth, then closed it again, because she didn't have an answer.
The investigator sighed. "That's what I thought."
The police officer stepped closer to the garage. "Let's start simple," he said. "Who owns this house?"
I raised my hand slightly. "I do."
"Who installed that wheel boot?"
Everyone looked at Karen. She suddenly looked much smaller than she did 20 minutes ago.
"I was following orders," she muttered.
The investigator tilted his head. "From who?"
Karen hesitated. Then she said something that made the investigator's eyes narrow: "The HOA president."
That got everyone's attention.
"Oh," the investigator said. "And who is that?"
Karen pointed down the street. "Mr. Dalton."
I almost smiled, because that name explained a lot. The officer noticed my reaction. "You know him?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "We've met."
Karen suddenly sounded confident again. "Mr. Dalton runs this community," she said. "He told me to enforce the rules."
The investigator wrote the name down. "Good, I'll be speaking with him next."
Karen crossed her arms like she had just won something. "Go ahead."
But that confidence lasted about five seconds, because the investigator looked back at his clipboard and said something very quietly: "That's strange."
Karen frowned. "What?"
"According to the state records," he said slowly, "Mr. Dalton isn't registered with Summit Ridge, either."
Silence hit the driveway again.
Karen blinked. "That's impossible."