The irony wasn’t lost on me. Now I was using this space to dismantle the woman who destroyed what we built. Rogers Towing had been the exclusive HOA contractor for 11 years. During that time, 63 vehicles had been towed under HOA authorization. 63.
For a community of 212 homes, I did the math. One tow every two months for over a decade. The invoices told a cleaner story than any witness ever could. HOA pays $1,500 per tow. Gerald’s company pays the junkyard between $200 and $400 for actual disposal.
The difference, roughly $1,100 per vehicle, vanishes into Gerald’s accounts. 63 transactions, nearly $70,000 over 11 years, flowing from community funds to Christine’s husband. Every single invoice bore her signature. I pulled the authorization form for my father’s car from the stack.
Christine’s signature at the bottom. Gerald’s company is listed as the provider and in the description field, words that made my jaw tighten. Abandoned vehicle. Inoperable. No registered owner response after proper notification. I stared at that line for a long time.
Abandoned. The car was in my garage. Inoperable. I had driven it 2 days before. No response after notification. I was never notified. Every word was a lie. She didn’t even bother making it believable. Why would she? No one had ever checked before.
Here’s what Arizona law actually requires for HOA vehicle towing. Written notice to the owner at least 72 hours before removal unless there’s an immediate safety hazard. Postto notification within 24 hours, 10 days for the owner to reclaim before disposal. I received nothing.
No warning, no notification, no opportunity. Christine hadn’t just cut corners. She had deliberately bypassed every legal protection designed to prevent exactly what she did to me. And according to these records, she had done it 51 times before. I cross referenced the 63 towing records against HOA meeting minutes from the same period.
If bylaws required board approval, votes should be documented. I found authorization for 12 tows. 12 out of 63. The other 51 showed nothing. No discussion, no vote, no record of the board even knowing the actions occurred. Christine had been operating outside her own governance structure for over a decade.
The board existed for legitimacy. The power was entirely hers. I thought about my father then. The way he would spend hours polishing chrome that was already spotless because the work itself mattered to him. The way he taught me that doing something right means doing every step, not just the ones people notice.
Christine Rogers had built her entire operation on the assumption that no one would ever look at the steps, that the paperwork was just decoration, that power meant never having to prove anything. Pamela had said people left rather than fight. I wanted to know who they were.
County property records showed 14 homeowners had sold within 60 days of significant HOA enforcement actions. 14 families who chose surrender over confrontation. I tracked down three. The first refused to discuss it. The second had moved out of state.