I opened the heavy, fireproof lockbox I had brought out from the cabin. Inside were various important documents, but I pulled out the most crucial one: the original surveyor’s map and the master deed to the valley, stamped and verified by the county clerk. I unfolded the large parchment and laid it out flat on the hood of my truck.
"Gary, you might want to see this too," I called out to the tow truck driver, who was already wisely detaching his cables from my truck.
Brenda stomped over, glaring at the map. "What is this forgery? I don't have time for arts and crafts!"
"This, Brenda, is the official county plat map," I explained, tracing a line with my finger. "You see this tiny little red square in the corner? That’s East Ridge. That’s the twenty acres my grandfather sold in 1985. That is where your house, and the fourteen other houses in your little subdivision, are located."
I then circled my finger around the massive green area that encompassed the rest of the map. "And this is the Henderson estate. Eight hundred acres. It includes this cabin, the lake, the surrounding forests..." I paused, locking eyes with her, "...and the three-mile paved access road that connects your subdivision to the main highway."
Brenda stared at the map, her eyes darting back and forth. "No. No, that's not right. The HOA owns the access road. I collect the maintenance fees for it! I had the gate installed at the bottom of the hill!"
Sheriff Miller raised an eyebrow. "You installed a gate on the main road, Mrs. Vance? Without county permits? On land you don't own?"
I leaned in closer. "Brenda, you don't own the road. Your HOA doesn't own the road. I own the road. You and your neighbors only have legal access via an easement granted by my grandfather. An easement that requires you to follow local laws and not impede the property owner."
The color rapidly drained from Brenda's face. The reality of the situation was finally piercing through her armor of entitlement.
"Wait," Gary the tow truck driver chimed in, looking angry. "Brenda, you told me you owned this whole place. You got me out here trying to illegally tow a guy's truck off his own land? I could lose my license for that!"
The situation was rapidly deteriorating for the self-appointed HOA President. But I wasn't finished yet. The mention of "maintenance fees" had caught my attention.
"Let's talk about those fees, Brenda," I said, leaning against the truck. "You mentioned you collect road maintenance fees from the neighbors? And you charge for access to the lake?"