“Did anyone complain?”

“Everyone. Separately. That’s why it worked.”

Elijah asked to see the HOA’s public financial summary. The response was a scanned report with broad categories and no supporting receipts. Sandra, who had served on a volunteer budget committee years earlier, noticed a recurring line for “asset compliance and recovery services.”

“That’s new,” she said. “At least, it wasn’t there when I reviewed the old budgets.”

“What does it pay for?”

“Apparently, making sure people comply.”

The line was substantial. More substantial than lawn care. More than playground maintenance. More, in fact, than the neighborhood had spent repairing its roads the previous year.

Sandra pointed to a vendor: Sterling Asset Recovery.

“Ever heard of them?” Elijah asked.

“Only when somebody’s car disappears from a driveway.”

That was the first time he heard the name.

It would not be the last.

CHAPTER 5: THE MEETING AFTER THE MEETING

The next HOA meeting took place in a clubhouse that smelled of coffee, carpet cleaner, and old arguments. Elijah attended in a plain blue shirt, sitting with the homeowners rather than near the board.

Vivien delivered a forty-minute presentation titled “Preserving Our Neighborhood’s Character.” She showed photographs of loud vehicles, clogged streets, and illegal street races. None had been taken in Maple Ridge.

Then she put a photograph of Elijah’s Mustang on the screen.

“Some people,” she said, “move into an established community and immediately expect everyone to accommodate their personal displays.”

Several residents looked back at Elijah.

He raised his hand. “Can you identify which bylaw prohibits this car?”

“This isn’t a courtroom, Mr. Grant.”

“I didn’t suggest it was. I asked for the rule.”

Vivien changed slides.

Sandra stood. “I’d like an answer, too. If we’re going to fine people, we should be able to show them what they violated.”

Vivien’s smile tightened. “Mrs. Mills, let’s not make this personal.”

“You put his personal vehicle on a projector.”

Someone near the back laughed. Others began asking about their own fines. A woman named Marlene Ellis wanted to know why her late fees had doubled without notice. A landscaper complained that his truck had been towed from his own driveway during a repair job. A young father asked who had authorized Sterling Asset Recovery to enter the gated streets after midnight.

Vivien declared the meeting out of order.

Gregory, sitting in the back, did not join the argument. Instead, he watched Elijah with the focused interest of a man evaluating an unfamiliar problem.

Afterward, when people had gathered near the coffee machine, Gregory approached him.

“You have a way with an audience,” he said.

“I asked a straightforward question.”

“That’s usually how trouble begins.”

“For who?”

Gregory smiled. “Depends who owns the microphone.”