Chapter 4 - The Deed and the Deceit
Marcus sat at my kitchen table, laying out four Manila folders in a neat, overlapping row. Outside, the gray light of dawn was just beginning to bleed through the frost on the windows.
"Derek took a plea proffer thirty minutes ago," Marcus said, opening the first folder. "He was terrified. He thought he was looking at federal arson charges because you service municipal fleet vehicles in Bay 3. He gave the deputies full access to his phone and his iCloud backups."
"What did Melissa have him do?" I asked, leaning forward, the coffee hot in my hands.
"The break-in wasn't just to steal your tools or your diagnostic tablets, Jared. It was an evidence-destruction mission." Marcus tapped a printout of text messages between Melissa and Derek from three days prior.
*Melissa: 'Get the green lockbox from his back office safe. The hard copies of the 2019 promissory note and the original quitclaim deed are inside. Once those are gone, his signature on the electronic records won't hold up in probate court.'*
*Derek: 'What if he changes the locks first?'*
*Melissa: 'He won't. He’s a soft touch. He’ll take the cat food joke, pout like he always does, and go home to cry about Sarah. Just do it while he's dealing with the kids.'*
I stared at the screen capture. Seeing it in black and white—her calculated malice, her using my dead wife as a weapon to predict my behavior—felt like a cold splash of river water. Any lingering scrap of sibling sentimentality burned away to ash.
"There’s more," Marcus continued, flipping to the second folder. "Did you know Melissa took out an equity line of credit application two weeks ago?"
"How?" I frowned. "Her name isn't on the title. Apex Holdings LLC owns the property. I am the sole managing member."
"She forged your signature, Jared." Marcus dropped a notarized document onto the table. "She used an online mobile notary who didn't properly verify the ID. She presented a fake corporate resolution claiming she was the Vice President of Apex Holdings. She applied for a $175,000 cash-out equity loan against the house."
"Jesus Christ," I breathed, running a hand over my face. "She was trying to liquidate the house out from under me."
"She was going to take the cash, let the house default into foreclosure under your LLC’s credit rating, and move to Scottsdale with Derek. The bank flag went off yesterday afternoon because the title insurance company spotted a discrepancy in the LLC filing. That’s why she escalated. She knew the walls were closing in."
"What are our options?"
"We don't need a thirty-day eviction notice anymore," Marcus said, his eyes flashing behind his glasses. "Under state law, when a tenant commits a felony offense on or directly connected to the property, or attempts fraudulent conveyance of the real estate, the tenancy is immediately voided for cause. Furthermore, Derek lived there. He committed a violent felony against the landlord's commercial property using a vehicle registered to that address."
"So she doesn't get thirty days?"
"She doesn't even get thirty hours," Marcus said. "I drafted an Emergency Order of Possession and a Trespass Warning. Judge Miller—no relation to you—is the holiday duty magistrate this weekend. I already sent him the arrest report, Derek’s sworn proffer, and the forged bank documents. He signed the writ at 5:30 this morning."
I looked at the clock on the microwave: 6:05 AM.
"Let’s go," I said.
May you like
Marcus stood up, buttoning his coat. "I already coordinated with the Sheriff’s Department. Two deputies will meet us at the curb. We’re changing the locks, Jared. And she’s leaving in whatever clothes she’s wearing."
***
