Chapter 4: The Deed He Wanted to Steal
I didn't wait for Daniel to come home.
The moment Vanessa told me he was coming for the original property deed, I grabbed my car keys and ran downstairs.
Our house sat on a quiet street outside Nashville. It was a two-story brick home with a white porch, a small backyard, and a maple tree Daniel and I had planted during our first year of marriage.
I'd made every mortgage payment for the last four years.
Every single one.
Daniel had insisted that his construction business would eventually become successful enough for him to contribute equally. I'd believed him.
Now I wondered whether he'd ever intended to.
I called Vanessa as I drove.
"Are you sure about the documents?""
"I'm looking at them right now," she answered.
"Sarah, there's something else.""
"What?""
"The folder contains a copy of a power of attorney.""
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
"Whose power of attorney?""
"Yours.""
I nearly missed the turn.
"I never signed one.""
"That's what I thought.""
"Can you send me a photograph?""
"I already did.""
At the next red light, I checked my phone.
There it was.
A document bearing my full legal name, my address, and a signature that looked almost exactly like mine.
It authorized Daniel to make certain financial decisions on my behalf.
At the bottom was a notary stamp.
I recognized the notary's name.
Patricia Brooks.
My mother-in-law.
I stared at the screen.
"Vanessa, how did Patricia become a notary?""
"Daniel said she had helped him with the paperwork.""
I swallowed.
Patricia had never mentioned anything about notarizing documents.
But she had repeatedly asked me to sign household paperwork over the years.
Insurance renewals.
Bank forms.
Tax documents.
Once, she'd even offered to organize our property records because she claimed I was terrible at keeping things straight.
Had I unknowingly signed something?
Or had someone forged my signature?
I pulled into our driveway.
The porch light was on.
Daniel's car wasn't there.
I rushed inside and went straight to the home office.
The filing cabinet was open.
Folders had been pulled out and scattered across the desk.
I immediately checked the small fireproof box where we kept important documents.
The property deed was gone.
So was our original mortgage paperwork.
I stood frozen.
Then I heard a sound behind me.
"Looking for something?""
I turned.
Patricia stood in the doorway holding her leather handbag.
She wasn't wearing the birthday dinner dress anymore. She had changed into black slacks and a cream sweater.
Her expression was almost pleasant.
"Patricia? What are you doing here?""
She stepped into the office.
"Daniel called me. He said you were having another emotional episode.""
I stared at her.
"Where is my property deed?""
She raised an eyebrow.
"Your property deed?""
"Our house documents. They're missing.""
Patricia sighed dramatically.
"Sarah, you really should stop accusing everyone of stealing from you.""
"Did you take them?""
She placed her handbag on the desk.
"Daniel is your husband. What's his is yours, and what's yours is his.""
"That's not an answer.""
Her expression hardened.
"Watch your tone.""
I picked up my phone.
"I'm calling the police.""
Patricia laughed.
"Go ahead. Tell them what? That a married couple is moving their paperwork?""
Then she leaned closer.
"Listen carefully, Sarah. My son has worked very hard, and he deserves to have something to show for it.""
"I've paid for this house.""
"Daniel gave you a marriage. He gave you a family.""
"That's supposed to be worth more than the mortgage?""
Her eyes narrowed.
"You're always counting money. That's your problem.""
I looked at her.
"Did you notarize a power of attorney using my name?""
For the first time, Patricia stopped speaking.
Her fingers tightened around her handbag.
Then she said, "You signed what Daniel gave you.""
"I never signed a power of attorney.""
"Well, perhaps you forgot.""
I stepped toward her.
"I didn't.""
Patricia grabbed her bag.
"You're making a terrible mistake by turning against your husband.""
Before she could leave, I noticed a corner of paper sticking out of her handbag.
It was a photocopy of our property deed.
"Give me that.""
She immediately covered the bag.
"Don't touch my things!""
I reached for my phone and took a photograph.
Patricia's face turned crimson.
"How dare you!""
She stormed out.
I followed her to the front porch.
"Tell Daniel I know about the power of attorney!""
She stopped beside her car.
Then she turned and delivered the sentence that changed everything.
"Sarah, you should be more worried about the mortgage than the deed.""
I froze.
"What mortgage?""
She smiled without warmth.
"Ask your husband how much he borrowed against this house.""
Then she drove away.
I stood on the porch, unable to move.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Vanessa.
*Sarah, I found another document. It's a loan approval for $185,000. Your name is on it.*
May you like
A second message followed.
*And Daniel didn't use the money for his business.*
