Chapter 8 - The Hearing They Tried to Rig
The courthouse was crowded when we arrived.
My father's interview had done its work.
Strangers stared as though I had already been diagnosed, convicted, and dismissed from service.
Rebecca entered an appearance on my behalf and submitted the certified tax records.
She also asked the court to examine the forged deed and the new accusations separately.
Judge Simmons had brought in counsel to address potential conflicts arising from his prior professional contact with Grandpa's estate.
He disclosed that history on the record and asked whether any party objected to his continuing in the emergency matter.
Rebecca reserved all rights while the transfer restraint remained in place.
My father's lawyer called a physician who had never examined me.
The doctor had reviewed selected discharge paperwork and offered a vague opinion that combat trauma might affect judgment.
Rebecca asked whether he had reviewed any recent clinical evaluation.
He had not.
"Have you ever spoken to Commander Carter?"
"No."
"Then you cannot tell this court she lacks capacity to manage property, can you?"
The doctor looked toward my father.
"Not definitively."
Rebecca sat down.
My parents' theory had begun collapsing.
Then my father surprised us by taking the witness stand voluntarily.
He testified that Grandpa had promised him control of the farmhouse years earlier.
He described me as absent, bitter, and vulnerable to manipulation.
When Rebecca presented a bank confirmation showing the taxes had come from my own accounts, Dad claimed he had reimbursed me in cash.
"Every year?" she asked.
"Yes."
"During deployments overseas?"
His answer came a moment too late.
"Through family arrangements."
Rebecca placed his earlier signed acknowledgment beside the deed petition.
"Which document is true, Mr. Carter?"
For a moment I expected him to admit it.
Instead, he pointed at Grandpa's signature.
"My father was confused."
The judge looked toward the capacity certifications.
"We will address that claim through evidence, not insults to the deceased."
The transfer restraint was extended.
My parents' competency request was denied without prejudice for lack of supporting evidence.
But the judge would not decide ownership finally that day.
Outside, the crowd had thinned.
I saw June waiting under the stone awning.
She looked terrified.
"There's something in the barn," she whispered.
"Your grandfather kept it behind the blue tractor."
Before she could explain, a sedan stopped at the curb.
A man in a black coat stepped out.
June's expression changed.
"That's him," she breathed.
May you like
"That's Daniel Price."
