Chapter 5 - The Company Behind the Buyer
Palmetto Harbor Holdings had been registered eight months earlier.
Its manager was listed as D. Lawson, with a mailing address at a small office park near Mount Pleasant.
Ruth found the registration in public filings and laid it next to the supposed purchase agreement.
"This isn't an unrelated buyer," she said.
"The appearance is that Diane controlled the purchasing company."
"Then why sell our house to herself?"
"Because a paper transaction can be used to obtain financing, demand possession, or create leverage."
The answer was colder than I expected.
They might not have been trying to cash out immediately.
They might have been trying to force me out first.
Ruth warned me not to assume every piece of the financing story was established yet.
We had evidence of the company and the documents, not a complete accounting of the money.
Eric demanded a private conversation later that morning.
He stood at the kitchen island where my father used to carve Thanksgiving turkey.
"You know Mom didn't mean to upset you," he began.
"You handed me motel money with our newborn in my arms."
"I panicked."
"You printed an eviction notice."
"Mom handled that part."
Every explanation was an attempt to pass the blame across the counter.
I asked why Diane controlled the buyer.
Eric stared at the floor.
"She was helping."
"Helping who?"
He said nothing.
"Did someone give you money?"
His eyes flickered.
"I didn't say that."
Before I could ask another question, Emma began crying upstairs.
I left the conversation to feed her, grateful for a reason to escape the smell of Eric's aftershave.
When I returned, he was gone.
So was the blue folder Ruth had left on the counter.
I checked the camera mounted near the side entrance.
It showed Eric carrying the folder under his jacket.
I sent the footage to Ruth.
She told me to preserve the original file and write down exactly when I'd discovered it missing.
By evening she had sent a preservation demand to everyone whose identity we knew, requiring them not to destroy relevant records.
At nine, a stranger called the house.
"Mrs. Lawson?" a woman's voice asked.
"My name is Cynthia Bell."
My breath stopped.
"Were you a witness to the power of attorney?"
Cynthia began to cry.
"I didn't know what they were going to use it for."
Then someone shouted in the background.
May you like
The line went dead.
