Chapter 9 - The House I Never Agreed to Sell
Daniel told me not to confront Benjamin.
For once, I listened immediately.
Instead, we requested the relevant transaction records through appropriate legal procedures and contacted the title company named in the proposed property agreement.
I had never heard of the company.
I had never visited its office.
I had certainly never signed an agreement to sell my home.
The title company agreed to preserve its records while the disputed transaction was reviewed.
A preliminary examination revealed something peculiar.
The agreement had been uploaded through a business document portal.
The account belonged to Kelley Heritage Holdings.
The electronic signature certificate identified an email address.
It was not mine.
The address contained my name.
But it ended with a domain connected to Benjamin's business.
I stared at it.
"Someone created an email account pretending to be me."
Serena nodded.
"That's one possibility the records strongly suggest."
Daniel raised a cautioning hand.
"We should distinguish what we can prove from what we suspect."
I appreciated that.
Anger made certainty tempting.
But I wanted the truth, not merely the most satisfying explanation.
The document listed a proposed transfer price of nine hundred forty thousand dollars.
The amount was significantly lower than the speculative redevelopment value shown to investors.
The agreement also included conditions.
One required my property to be contributed to Kelley Heritage Holdings before a construction loan could close.
Another referenced a deposit.
"Was a deposit paid?" I asked.
Serena checked the supporting records.
"There's a schedule showing one hundred thousand dollars."
"Where did it go?"
"To an escrow account."
"Whose money?"
"We're tracing it."
Daniel leaned forward.
"Until ownership and authorization are established, we should proceed cautiously."
"Is my house in immediate danger?"
"The agreement appears disputed, and we can take steps to protect your title and notify relevant parties."
I nodded.
"Do that."
Daniel prepared the necessary notices.
He also arranged a consultation with a property litigation specialist.
We were not going to assume a forged electronic signature meant the transaction had already transferred ownership.
We were going to find out exactly what had happened.
That afternoon, I took a walk through my garden.
The air smelled of wet leaves.
Thomas's workshop stood beyond the apple tree.
Its blue door needed repainting.
The windows were dusty.
A loose gutter knocked softly whenever the wind rose.
I opened the door.
Inside, everything smelled of sawdust and machine oil.
Thomas's tools hung neatly along the back wall.
A wooden ruler rested beside his old workbench.
The pencil markings were still visible.
I touched the bench.
"You thought I would need protecting," I whispered.
I had spent years resenting the idea of being protected.
I wanted to believe I was strong enough to take care of myself.
Now I understood that Thomas hadn't been protecting me from age.
He had been trying to protect me from people who would use my love as an opening.
My phone rang.
It was a number I didn't recognize.
I answered.
"Mrs. Kelley?"
"Speaking."
"My name is Adam Pierce."
He sounded young.
Nervous.
"I was referred to you by someone who said you might be reviewing transactions involving Kelley Heritage."
I stiffened.
"Who referred you?"
"I'd rather explain that in person."
"Then contact my attorney."
"I tried."
"What's your reason for calling me directly?"
He hesitated.
"Because I think you should know the company has been using your name to reassure investors."
I looked at the workshop door.
"How?"
"They told us you were the family's principal financial backer."
I felt my chest tighten.
"Who is 'us'?"
"Investors."
"Are you one?"
"Yes."
"How much did you invest?"
"Two hundred and fifty thousand."
I closed my eyes.
"And what were you told?"
"That your late husband's estate was supporting the development."
"Did they show you documents?"
"Yes."
"Then please send them to my attorney."
Another pause.
"Mrs. Kelley, I need to tell you something else."
I waited.
"Benjamin told us you'd recently become confused about your finances."
My hand tightened around the telephone.
"He said you might deny having signed documents because of your memory problems."
I looked at the trees.
There it was.
The reason for the petition.
Not merely to regain access to my money.
To undermine my credibility before I could challenge what they had done.
"Mr. Pierce," I said.
"Please listen carefully."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I am not confused about my house."
He said nothing.
"I am not confused about my bank accounts."
My voice became steadier.
"And I am certainly not confused about whether I signed documents giving away my home."
He exhaled.
"I believe you."
"Then give your records to Daniel Price."
"I will."
I started toward the house.
"One more question."
"Yes?"
"Why did you call today?"
He hesitated.
"Because Genevieve called our investor group this morning."
"What did she say?"
"She said the development was still secure."
"And?"
"She said you had agreed to move into assisted living."
The workshop seemed to tilt around me.
I gripped the doorframe.
Adam continued.
"Mrs. Kelley, there's a move-out date in the development schedule."
I closed my eyes.
"When?"
His answer made me forget the cold.
May you like
"November first."
Six days away.
