Chương 3
Perhaps he had always seen those things. Perhaps Lillian had mistaken his ease in the house for love of it.
The patrol car arrived without sirens. Marcus opened the pedestrian gate after checking the officer’s badge. A woman with a blond braid stepped through first, followed by a younger male officer holding a small notebook. Neither touched a weapon. Neither behaved as though they had entered a television drama.
The woman introduced herself as Officer Chen and asked who owned the property.
“I do,” Lillian said.
Maxwell spoke at the same time. “This is a misunderstanding.”
Officer Chen glanced between them. “One at a time, please.”
She asked Lillian for identification and proof of ownership. Lillian had prepared both in a slim folder inside her handbag: driver’s license, current property-tax statement, and a copy of the recorded deed. Her attorney had emailed the deed at seven twelve that morning. Marcus had printed it in the security office.
Officer Chen reviewed the papers, then asked Maxwell whether he had entered the property with permission.
“I have permission to visit my mother.”
“Did you have permission to bring a moving company today?”
“We were coordinating a household transition.”
“Did she authorize the transition?”
“She has been discussing downsizing for years.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Maxwell looked at Lillian.
“No,” she said.
The younger officer walked to the gate and spoke with the moving-truck driver. The driver handed over the clipboard, pointed to the work order, then looked at Maxwell with a mixture of annoyance and relief. This was clearly not the first time he had been sent into a family dispute, but it may have been the first involving a forged signature and a locked mansion gate.
Officer Chen read the contract.
“Mr. Morales, did you sign this authorization?”
“I arranged the service.”
“That’s also not what I asked.”
“I did not forge anything.”
“Who signed your mother’s name?”
“My office prepared the paperwork.”
Officer Chen looked up. “Your office signed her name?”
“No. The form was processed electronically.”
Lillian said, “The company emailed him a blank authorization page. He printed it. The signature is in blue ink.”
Maxwell’s head snapped toward her. “How would you know what they emailed?”
“Because the dispatcher forwarded the email chain after I called to cancel the job.”
Samantha pressed her lips together.
Officer Chen examined the paper again. “Were you planning to remove property today?”
“Furniture my mother no longer uses.”
“I use it,” Lillian said.
Maxwell’s voice sharpened. “You haven’t sat in the east parlor in three years.”
Officer Chen’s brows lifted slightly. “That doesn’t make it yours.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You signed a contract saying you had authority to remove it.”
“I believed I had implied authority.”
The younger officer returned. “Company says the order was to clear all freestanding contents. They were given an access window from ten to four and instructions that the owner would be off-site.”
Samantha closed her eyes.
Maxwell exhaled through his nose. “Can we speak privately?”
Officer Chen looked at Lillian. “Do you want him removed from the property?”
The question was simple. The answer should have been too.
Lillian looked at her son.
He stood beside the car he had purchased after telling her his business was struggling. The navy suit fit him perfectly. His shoulders were held rigid, as though posture could replace innocence. There was a pale line near his left eyebrow from the pool-house accident. Lillian had sat beside him in the emergency room that night while he tried not to cry because his father was watching.
For one treacherous moment, she saw the boy rather than the man.
Then she saw the forged signature.
“Yes,” she said. “I want him removed.”
Maxwell’s frozen smile returned, but there was no charm left in it.
“You’re doing this in front of strangers.”
“No,” Lillian said. “You did this in front of strangers. I am stopping it.”
Officer Chen explained that Maxwell could leave in his vehicle once Marcus opened the gate. The moving company would depart separately. If he returned without permission, the property owner could report trespassing. The contract and signature issue would require further review, particularly if Lillian wished to make a formal complaint.
“I do,” Lillian said.
Maxwell stared at her. “You want me charged?”
“I want the truth documented.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one you’re getting today.”
Samantha opened the passenger door of the Mercedes, then stopped. She looked at Maxwell, at the moving truck, and finally at Lillian.
“I didn’t know,” she said.
Lillian believed that Samantha had not known everything. She also believed Samantha had chosen not to ask several convenient questions.
“That may matter later,” Lillian said.
Samantha flinched.
Maxwell walked around the front of the Mercedes. “Get in.”
She did not move.
“Samantha.”
“Did you sign her name?”
“It was administrative.”
“That means yes.”
“It means the formality did not reflect the actual understanding.”
“You lied to me.”
“We can discuss this at home.”
“Which home?”
The driver of the moving truck looked away. Officer Chen’s younger partner pretended to study his notebook.
Maxwell’s face hardened. “Don’t perform for an audience.”
Samantha removed her diamond ring.
She did not throw it. She did not slap him or raise her voice. She held it between two fingers for a moment, as if surprised by its weight, then opened the driver’s-side door and placed it in the cup holder.
“I’ll get a ride,” she said.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I have been ridiculous for eleven months.”
She took her handbag and walked toward the pedestrian gate. Marcus opened it for her without comment.
Maxwell watched her leave. The tendons in his neck stood out above his collar.
May you like
Lillian felt no triumph. Only fatigue and a thin, sour disappointment that reached beyond the morning into years she could not yet examine.
Marcus opened the vehicle gate. Maxwell got into the Mercedes and started the engine. He lowered the window as he passed his mother.
