The Residents Counted the Ballots While Sterling Counted His Friends

The removal meeting took place six weeks after Sterling set my fine beside the cookies.

This time, June placed the rule book in the middle of the table. A yellow slip marked the clause that let owners call their own meeting when the president failed to act on a valid request.

She had followed every notice period. Etta had checked my copy. The association had hired its own lawyer to check the meeting procedure.

Sterling could not call it a surprise.

He tried anyway.

"A handful of malcontents arranged this behind my back."

June held up the delivery receipts. "You signed for the notice."

All twelve homes were represented. Nobody had brought cookies.

I took the same chair as before. Mrs. Vale sat beside me without looking at the space between us. That helped more than I had expected.

An independent accountant joined by speakerphone. She had reviewed the records under the court's order, and the board had authorized her to explain the findings to the owners.

She used plain figures.

"The association paid Voss Site Works eighteen thousand four hundred dollars. Six thousand two hundred went from Voss to the president's private business. The approved minutes supplied for that payment did not match the secretary's retained draft."

"Project management," Sterling said.

"Please identify the contract authorizing your fee."

He opened his folder. He turned three pages. Then he shut it.

The accountant waited long enough for the silence to become part of the answer.

June read her statement about the minutes. The treasurer admitted that he had paid the bill on Sterling's word without seeking the required second approval. He offered his resignation.

"I thought he had already checked everything," he said.

I believed him. I also thought he needed to stop signing our checks.

Sterling stood.

"You people asked for a pleasant courtyard. You asked for lower costs. Now you're punishing the person who did the work."

Cora sat near the back as my invited guest. She held the sales brochure in her lap.

"You offered my collection for sale," she said.

"That is a separate business disagreement."

"There was no business between us."

His mouth opened, then closed.

The police had filed their report with prosecutors. The case had not reached trial, and I would not pretend it had. But the residents did not need a criminal verdict to decide who should control their money.

When June offered me the floor, I stayed seated.

"My license let me inspect a small bay," I said. "I did that work. Somebody took my number and used it to cover work I never approved. Then I got fined for finding the damage."

I placed the two applications side by side. My actual work order had four narrow tasks. The false application claimed authority to seal the passage.

"I want my objection attached to the first meeting's minutes. I want the charge removed from my account. And I want two signatures on every repair payment."

"You want my chair," Sterling said.

"I have a chair."

Ramona, who had come to answer safety questions, gave one helpless burst of laughter. She pressed her lips together and looked down.

The votes were written on paper, read aloud, and checked by two owners.

Nine voted to remove Sterling from the board. Two voted against it. One abstained.

His only remaining power was to leave noisily.

He gathered his papers and demanded that nobody touch the office keys. The association lawyer explained that the keys belonged to the association.

Sterling dropped them onto the table.

The new board named June interim president and accepted the treasurer's resignation. It voted to cancel my $1,000 charge, attach my objection, and send a correction to every owner.

It also approved an outside review of the last three years. That review would later find no other missing payments. The damage was large enough without inventing more.

Ramona explained the repair plan. Three bids had come in. The selected price was $31,600, with city inspections before anything was covered. Our insurer had agreed to cover $21,000 of the stabilization cost. The association would seek the remaining $10,600 from those responsible.

I walked home after dark. The courtyard had been cleared of pots above the damaged section. It looked bare, but it no longer looked like a secret.

My thread lifted toward the kitchen window when I came inside.

I had just set water on the stove when Etta called.

"The prosecutor filed charges today," she said. "Attempted burglary and theft of association funds. The false application is part of the case."

I turned off the burner so I could hear her clearly.

"And Nabil? Your name is listed as a witness."