Chapter 7 - A Loan Built on a Lie
The SUV left without approaching the house.
Ruth urged me not to guess who was inside or confront anyone, and I followed her advice.
The next morning a notice arrived by courier addressed to Palmetto Harbor Holdings.
It demanded documentation under a short-term bridge financing agreement.
I didn't open someone else's mail.
Instead I photographed the envelope and gave it to Ruth, who traced the lender through information disclosed in the transaction documents she had obtained lawfully.
A private financing firm had advanced funds in anticipation of a sale.
Its security position depended on representations about the property and the authority to transfer it.
Now those representations looked suspect.
Diane returned to the house before lunch.
She wore a cream suit and carried a gift bag with tissue paper arranged as though she were arriving for a baby shower.
"Something for Emma," she said brightly.
Inside was a pink blanket.
There was no apology.
She asked whether we could put our differences aside for the baby's sake.
"Does putting them aside mean signing your paperwork?" I asked.
Diane set her cup down.
"Ruth Calder is turning you against your family."
"My family was here before Ruth arrived."
"Eric is your husband."
"And he tried to evict me from the house my father left me."
Her expression tightened.
"Your father left you too much."
There it was, naked and ugly.
It wasn't only money.
It was resentment stored for seven years and finally given a chance to act.
That evening Ruth showed me bank records Eric had voluntarily produced during preliminary negotiations.
A large transfer from the financing firm went to Diane's business account.
Another went to an account jointly controlled by Diane and Eric.
The exact intended use of the money remained disputed, but the transfers destroyed Eric's claim that he'd merely signed paperwork for someone else.
"He benefited," I said.
"Potentially," Ruth answered.
"We need a complete accounting."
I asked how long he'd been planning this.
Ruth pointed to a company registration date eight months earlier.
"At least this part of the structure predates Emma's birth."
Eight months.
At that time Eric had been building the nursery, assembling the crib, and telling me I had nothing to worry about.
I went upstairs and sat beside Emma until she slept.
Then I opened the photo archive Eric and I shared.
In a picture from last winter, he was holding an architectural drawing of our home.
At the far edge of the table sat a business card.
I enlarged the image.
May you like
The name printed on it was Benjamin Price.
