Chương 6
“The authorization says listing consultation.”
“I didn’t read it.”
“You walked through Eliza’s bedroom.”
Teresa’s face folded, not dramatically, but as though something holding it upright had released.
“I closed her closet door before the pictures,” she said.
Claire almost laughed.
“You closed her closet.”
“It was open.”
“You protected her privacy by closing the closet before a stranger photographed the room she sleeps in.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me who created the account.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
“You know enough to be afraid of the answer.”
Teresa looked toward the glass doors. “Kevin is under a lot of pressure.”
“So he gets my house?”
“No.”
“He said it was a real house for a real family while my daughter stood ten feet away.”
“He was angry.”
“At what?”
“At being judged.”
“By whom?”
“Everyone.”
Claire leaned back. “Kevin thinks being noticed is judgment.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“What does that mean?”
“You have a career people respect. You have this house. You have savings. Dad listens when you talk about engineering as if you’re explaining how gravity works. Kevin has spent ten years trying to build something and every time he gets close, someone changes the rules.”
“Clients paying their bills is a changing rule?”
“You don’t have to be cruel.”
“I’m trying very hard not to be.”
Teresa stood again. “Dad helped you.”
“Daniel repaid him.”
“That’s not what Dad says.”
“What does he say?”
“That Daniel made partial payments, then stopped when his business slowed.”
Claire felt the patio tilt, although nothing moved.
“He says there’s still more than forty thousand owed with interest,” Teresa continued. “He says he never pressured you because Daniel died. He says selling the house would settle everything without involving lawyers.”
“The original loan was twenty-eight.”
“There were other advances.”
“What advances?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire closed her eyes briefly.
Teresa picked at the misbuttoned cardigan. “Dad has records.”
“So do I.”
“Then show him.”
“No. He can show me.”
Teresa took a breath. “Please don’t report Kevin.”
“I never said I would.”
“Your face did.”
“My face is tired.”
“He could lose everything.”
Claire looked at her sister. “That sentence is doing a lot of work today.”
Teresa walked to the gate, then stopped with her hand on the latch.
“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I didn’t want Eliza to hear any of it.”
“You just wanted her to live somewhere else.”
Teresa left without answering.
That night, Claire found the power of attorney.
It was in the blue banker’s box Frank had packed after Daniel’s estate closed. The document appointed Frank to handle specific insurance claims and certain tax matters for ninety days. It had expired more than twenty-two months earlier. It granted no authority over real property.
A copy of Claire’s driver’s license was clipped to it.
The license copy in her box had a pale diagonal line through the photograph caused by Frank’s old scanner. Dana’s file, when it finally arrived from the brokerage attorney, contained the same line.
Frank had supplied it.
The brokerage sent all communications after Evelyn issued a formal preservation request. The emails showed Dana had initially asked for a phone conversation with Claire. The false account replied that Claire had lost much of her hearing in one ear after a construction-site accident and preferred written communication.
Claire read that sentence three times.
She had never had a hearing injury.
The lie had been designed to prevent verification.
Dana’s file also contained metadata showing the authorization PDF had been created on a laptop registered to Cole Development Services.
Kevin’s company.
At nine the next morning, Claire met Evelyn again.
Evelyn studied the metadata and sat back.
“This is no longer a misunderstanding.”
“Could the laptop name be wrong?”
“Yes. File metadata can be changed. Devices can be shared. It is evidence, not a verdict.”
“But you think Kevin made it.”
“I think someone used his company’s computer or wanted it to appear that way.”
“Teresa asked me not to report him before I mentioned his name.”
“That matters.”
Claire looked at the police-report line on Evelyn’s list.
“My father gave them my license.”
“Yes.”
“He knew the power of attorney was expired.”
“Probably.”
“He might say he forgot.”
“He may.”
“Would anyone believe that?”
“Some people believe whatever allows dinner to continue.”
Claire rubbed her palms against her trousers. “I don’t want Eliza interviewed.”
“She may not need to be. But if you file a report, you should disclose that she witnessed the confrontation. Do not coach her. Do not question her repeatedly. Write down what she said spontaneously.”
“She asked if her grandfather was a stealer.”
Evelyn’s expression softened, then returned to neutral. “Write that down.”
Claire hated the idea of turning Eliza’s words into evidence.
“What happens to Teresa?”
“That depends on what she did.”
“She claims she didn’t know.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I believe she didn’t create the email. I believe she knew I hadn’t agreed. I don’t know what else.”
Evelyn tapped the file. “There may be another issue. Your father claims you owe him money secured, morally or otherwise, by the house. If he is inventing debt to pressure you, we need to address it. If there is real debt, we need to know the amount and terms.”
“Daniel paid him.”
“Find the records.”
Their accountant had retired to Arizona. His old firm had merged twice and moved offices. Claire spent the afternoon calling numbers that led to automated menus and people who said the records were archived, unavailable, or beyond the retention period.
She searched Daniel’s old laptop. It had not been opened in almost a year. The battery had swollen enough to lift the trackpad.
Miguel helped her remove the hard drive after work.
“You’re sure you want to do this here?” he asked, setting the laptop on the maintenance table in the engineering lab.
“No.”
May you like
“That is not the same as yes.”
“I don’t want to do it at home.”
