The investigator flipped the page around and showed the police officer. "Only three licensed agents. None named Dalton."
The officer looked up. "So, the HOA president ordered you to boot vehicles?"
Karen nodded. "Yes."
The officer exhaled slowly. "Well, that's another problem."
Karen looked confused. "What problem?"
The investigator answered before the officer could: "The HOA president doesn't have authority to order property seizures."
Karen's voice cracked slightly. "He told me it was legal."
The investigator shrugged. "People say a lot of things." Then he pointed at the boot again. "For now, that device needs to come off."
The tow truck driver stepped forward quickly. "I can remove it."
Karen snapped at him, "You work for the HOA!"
He shook his head immediately. "Not anymore."
He pulled a small tool from his truck and knelt next to my wheel. Karen looked like she might scream. "This is ridiculous!"
The officer looked at her calmly. "No, ma'am, this is called fixing a mistake."
A few seconds later—clank. The boot dropped onto the concrete. My truck was free.
The tow truck driver stood up and brushed his hands off. "Never touching HOA jobs again," he muttered.
Karen looked around like she was searching for someone to save her. But things were about to get worse.
Because just then, a black SUV turned into the street and stopped right in front of my driveway. The investigator looked at it, then at Karen.
"Well," he said quietly, "looks like Mr. Dalton decided to join us."
Karen's confidence came rushing back. "Good," she said quickly. "He'll clear this up."
The driver door of the SUV opened. A tall, older man stepped out.
Karen pointed proudly. "That's him! HOA president!"
But the moment the man saw the investigator, his face changed instantly. And the very first words out of his mouth made Karen's stomach drop:
"Karen, what did you do now?"