Chapter 5
I almost dropped the phone.
“Emergency custody?”
David stood so fast his chair scraped across the floor.
“What?”
Attorney Blake continued.
“I want to be clear. I am not representing her.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because she contacted my office months ago about a potential family-law matter. I declined representation after the consultation.”
Months ago.
My stomach turned.
“She has been planning this for months?”
“I can’t disclose privileged details from a consultation.”
“Then why call?”
“Because tonight she sent materials to an old office email account and demanded I file something immediately. I told her I do not represent her. Some of what she sent concerned me.”
“What did she send?”
“A video of you striking her.”
Of course.
My eyes closed.
“And?”
“Several clips that appear to show you yelling in your home.”
David whispered, “Edited.”
I put the phone on speaker.
“Mr. Blake, we just found hidden cameras my mother-in-law installed without our permission.”
There was silence.
Then he said, “That would be important information.”
“She also locked my six-year-old in a storage room.”
Another pause.
“Have police been contacted?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
David leaned toward the phone.
“This is David Carter. Linda is my mother.”
“I understand.”
“She cannot take our son.”
“No one can promise how a court will respond to a filing, but emergency custody requires serious allegations and evidence. If there is documented evidence showing she endangered the child or manufactured evidence, that matters.”
I looked at the laptop.
“We have video.”
“Preserve everything.”
“We will.”
“Do not edit it. Do not delete anything. Make copies.”
I glanced at Rebecca.
She nodded.
Blake continued.
“And do not engage in threatening communication with Linda tonight.”
“I won’t.”
“Given what you’ve described, you should speak with your own attorney as soon as possible.”
I almost laughed.
At two in the morning?
With what money?
Apparently eighty thousand dollars of our savings was gone.
I felt trapped.
Then Mr. Blake said something strange.
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“When Linda contacted me originally, her concern was not only custody.”
I waited.
“What else?”
“I can’t discuss specifics.”
“Then why mention it?”
“Because you should review the title and financial documents related to your home.”
David stared at me.
I felt cold.
“What does our house have to do with this?”
“I would obtain a current copy of the deed.”
Then he ended the call.
For several seconds, no one moved.
David said, “I’ll pull the county record online.”
He opened his laptop.
I sat beside Ethan on the couch.
He was exhausted.
His little body had finally stopped shaking.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Is Grandma coming back?”
“No.”
“You promise?”
I looked him in the eyes.
“I promise.”
David heard me.
He looked away.
I carried Ethan upstairs.
I changed him into pajamas.
I checked his wrist again.
Then I tucked him into my bed.
He fell asleep holding my hand.
I stayed there until his breathing became slow and steady.
When I returned downstairs, Rebecca was gone.
David was staring at the laptop.
His face had gone gray.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“David.”
He turned the screen.
I saw the property record.
Our names were listed.
David Carter.
Rachel Carter.
Then below that was a recent filing.
Pending deed transfer.
I leaned closer.
“What is that?”
David shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
The filing had been submitted eight days earlier.
A quitclaim deed.
My name appeared on it.
So did David’s.
The recipient was Harrington Property Group LLC.
Mark’s company.
My mouth went dry.
“We never signed this.”
“No.”
My signature was there.
It looked like mine.
Almost.
I leaned closer.
“That’s forged.”
David stared at his signature.
“So is mine.”
I remembered Mr. Blake’s warning.
Review the title.
My heart started pounding again.
Someone was trying to transfer our house.
To David’s brother.
I looked at the timestamp.
Eight days earlier.
Linda had been at our house that day.
She told me she was helping Ethan clean his room.
I had left paperwork on the kitchen counter before work.
Insurance forms.
School documents.
A copy of my driver’s license.
Everything someone might need to copy my signature.
“Oh my God.”
David stood.
“I’m calling Mark.”
“At two in the morning?”
“I don’t care.”
He dialed.
No answer.
Again.
Voicemail.
He sent a message.
CALL ME NOW.
I looked at him.
“What happened between you and Mark?”
He frowned.
“You know.”
“I know what Linda told me.”
“He stole money from her.”
“How much?”
“Almost a hundred thousand dollars.”
“How?”
“She said he convinced her to invest in his company and never returned it.”
“Did you ever ask him?”
David stared at me.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she had paperwork.”
“Did you see it?”
His silence answered.
Again.
Every accusation in this family came through Linda.
Every judgment.
Every feud.
Every secret.
I sat down.
“Call him again.”
David did.
This time Mark answered.
His voice was rough with sleep.
“Someone better be dead.”
David said, “Did Mom send you sixty-two thousand five hundred dollars seven months ago?”
Silence.
Then Mark said, “Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Is Rachel there?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“I’m coming over.”
David frowned.
“Just tell me.”
“No.”
“Mark.”
“I said I’m coming over.”
The line went dead.
Forty minutes later, headlights pulled into our driveway.
Mark entered without knocking.
He looked older than the last time I had seen him.
More gray in his beard.
Tired eyes.
He looked at David.
Then me.
“Where is Mom?”
“Gone.”
“Good.”
David crossed his arms.
“Answer me.”
Mark took off his jacket.
“She gave me money.”
“Why?”
“To buy your house.”
I felt my stomach drop.
David stared at him.
“What?”
Mark continued.
“She wanted Harrington Property Group to purchase your mortgage if you defaulted.”
“We aren’t in default.”
“I know.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Mark sat down.
“Seven months ago, Mom told me you were about to lose the house.”
“That’s not true.”
“I know that now.”
“She told me Rachel had drained your savings.”
My fists tightened.
“Of course she did.”
Mark looked at me.
“I believed her.”
David laughed bitterly.
“Everyone believes her.”
Mark didn’t argue.
“She gave me sixty-two five. Told me to hold it in escrow. She said once the bank started foreclosure proceedings, my company could make an offer.”
“But there was no foreclosure.”
“No.”
“So what happened to the money?”
“I still have most of it.”
David stared at him.
“Most?”
“I paid legal and title fees because she told me the transaction was moving.”
My head spun.
“Did you file that quitclaim deed?”
Mark looked confused.
“What quitclaim deed?”
David turned the laptop.
Mark leaned forward.
His face changed.
“I did not file that.”
“Your company is listed.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Then who did?”
Mark looked at the signature page.
Then at the notary stamp.
His eyes narrowed.
“This notary.”
“What about her?”
“I know the name.”
I leaned closer.
“Who is she?”
Mark sat back.
“She works with Mom.”
David frowned.
“Mom doesn’t have employees.”
“She does now.”
“What are you talking about?”
Mark looked at both of us.
“Linda started a business last year.”
David stared.
“She told me she was retired.”
“She lied.”
“What business?”
Mark hesitated.
“Senior transition consulting.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Helping older homeowners sell property, move assets, downsize.”
David’s face tightened.
“She works with deeds?”
“Yes.”
My blood went cold.
Mark looked toward the stairs.
“Where’s Ethan?”
“Asleep.”
“What happened tonight?”
I told him.
Everything.
By the end, Mark looked sick.
Then he said, “There’s something else you need to know.”
I almost laughed.
Of course there was.
There was always something else.
“What?”
“Mom called me yesterday.”
David’s jaw tightened.
“What did she want?”
“She wanted the sixty-two thousand transferred back.”
“Why?”
“She said the plan changed.”
“What plan?”
Mark looked at me.
“She said Rachel would be out of the house by Monday.”
My heart stopped.
David stared at his brother.
“Exactly what did she say?”
Mark pulled out his phone.
“She texted it.”
He found the message.
Then handed me the screen.
Linda:
Everything is finally moving. By Monday, Rachel will be out, David will have Ethan, and we can finish the property transfer without her interference.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
David looked destroyed.
“She thought she could transfer our house after getting Rachel out?”
Mark nodded.
“Apparently.”
I handed the phone back.
My hands were surprisingly steady now.
The fear was changing.
Becoming something cleaner.
Anger.
Focus.
“I need copies of everything.”
Mark nodded.
“You’ll have them.”
“Bank records too.”
“Yes.”
“And every message Linda ever sent you.”
“Yes.”
David looked at me.
“Rachel…”
I turned.
“I am not leaving this house.”
He blinked.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Good.”
“This is your home.”
“It is Ethan’s home.”
He nodded.
“And yours.”
I stared at him.
“That depends on what else you’re hiding.”
His face fell.
“I told you everything.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
I waited.
He looked away.
There it was.
Another hesitation.
My heart hardened.
“What?”
“Rachel.”
“What else?”
Mark looked between us.
“Should I leave?”
“No,” I said.
David took a breath.
“Mom didn’t just ask me for money.”
I waited.
“She asked me to sign something.”
My pulse jumped.
“What?”
“Power of attorney.”
I stared at him.
“You gave Linda power of attorney?”
“It was limited.”
“For what?”
“Financial transactions related to helping her recover from her debt.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“When?”
“Seven months ago.”
“The same time you gave her our money?”
“Yes.”
“Did you read it?”
He looked ashamed.
“Not closely enough.”
Mark swore under his breath.
I stood.
“Find it.”
David opened his email.
He searched.
Thirty seconds later, he found the document.
We read it together.
The words made my stomach twist.
The authorization was broader than David remembered.
Property transactions.
Bank communications.
Document execution.
Not unlimited.
But dangerous enough.
Especially in the hands of someone willing to forge my signature.
Mark pointed at the screen.
“She can’t legally sign for Rachel.”
“No,” I said.
“But she can make a fraudulent filing look more believable.”
David whispered, “I gave her the weapon.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
For once, I didn’t comfort him.
Because upstairs, my son was sleeping after being locked in a dark room.
And downstairs, I was discovering that the people who were supposed to be family had been moving money and property around behind my back for months.
Then Mark’s phone buzzed.
He looked down.
His face changed.
“What?”
He turned the screen toward us.
It was Linda.
One message.
You should have stayed out of this.
May you like
Then another.
If Rachel wants a war, she’s getting one.
