An Uninvited Guest

The latch on the cedar gate clicked twice before a hand reached over the tall fence boards.

Alicia set her phone on the small table next to her glass of water. She had just finished confirming the quarterly audit for Apex Management Group, the parent firm that held seventy percent of the voting shares in the regional HOA management contract. The quiet back yard was her sanctuary after six weeks of corporate acquisitions. She leaned back against the lounger, stretching her legs in the bright sun. The dry air carried a light smell of chlorine from the pool, three feet from her chair.

A manicured hand with silver rings groped blindly on the inside panel until red fingernails found the drop rod.

The heavy bolt slid back with a harsh rasp.

The gate swung inward and slammed against the wooden fence post with a sharp crack that rattled the latch.

A woman stepped straight onto the stone patio without pausing. She wore an orange and fuchsia floral blouse, white capri pants, and flat sandals that slapped against the flagstones. A metal clipboard rested in the crook of her arm, holding a loose stack of yellow paper.

Alicia did not move from her spot.

The intruder marched six paces past the sign pinned to the timber post. Her curled blonde hair caught the mild breeze as she scanned the water, the lounger, and the folded towel on the stone table.

She stopped three feet from the water edge. Her frame held the rigid stiffness of a sergeant inspecting barracks.

“You need to clear this area right now,” the woman barked.

Alicia kept her head rested on the cloth pillow. She adjusted her position by an inch, watching the intruder through the dark tint of her sunglasses.

“This is private property,” Alicia said. Her voice remained low and quiet. “The side gate was locked from the inside.”

“I am Karen Whitmore,” the woman replied, tapping a blue pen against her aluminum board. “I am the board president for this community.”

Karen took two strides forward, her sandals squeaking on the smooth tile near the water.

“An interior lock does not apply to official business,” Karen said. “We received notice about an unapproved pool line modification.”

Alicia picked up her glass of water. She took a short sip and placed it back on the woven coaster without making a sound.

“You reached over my six-foot fence to lift the latch,” Alicia said. “That is trespassing.”

Karen raised her chin, her eyes scanning the turquoise bikini Alicia wore and the quiet pool deck.

“I do not need your permission to inspect an illegal installation,” Karen said. “The rules of this development give the board full authority over external structures.”

Alicia remained still, her hands resting flat on the woven fabric of the lounge chair.

“There are no unapproved modifications,” Alicia said.

“That is for me to decide,” Karen said. She stepped closer, her sandals grinding a grain of sand against the concrete coping.

Karen took another direct step onto the flagstones, her wide frame cutting off the light from the overhead sun.

A shadow fell across Alicia’s lounger.