Chapter 13 - The Wrong Lawyer
Jonah arrived with Lillian just after sunrise. Diane refused to let them into the study until Grandma invited them.
“This is not a negotiation,” Diane said.
“Then why is everyone bringing papers?” Jonah asked.
“Because my mother is determined to make a scene.”
“Your mother is determined to remain the owner of her property.”
Lillian placed a folder on the table. “I have reviewed the title records. Mercer’s position is weaker than he claims.”
“How weak?” I asked.
“The corrective deed creates a substantial development restriction. The lease to Mercer may also be void because it was executed by Diane under an authority that did not permit long-term commercial use.”
“So Mercer cannot foreclose?”
“He can attempt to. He cannot guarantee success.”
Diane looked at Jonah. “You knew about the lease.”
“Your grandmother told me.”
“And you knew the restriction might help us.”
“I suspected.”
“You never told me.”
“You never asked me for legal advice.”
“You were in my house.”
“I was repairing a greenhouse.”
“You were waiting for a chance to turn Mother against me.”
Jonah’s jaw tightened. “I have spent ten years avoiding your family because your father blamed mine for the land dispute.”
“Your father did help Mercer.”
“He worked for Warren Mercer as a surveyor. He did not know about the dumping.”
“He knew enough.”
“He knew after the fire. By then Arthur was dead.”
Grandma looked up sharply. “Jonah.”
“No,” Diane said. “Let him talk.”
Jonah took a breath. “My father was the person who told Arthur to meet Warren that night. He believed Warren would settle. He did not know Warren had brought gasoline to destroy the records.”
“He was there?” I asked.
“He arrived after Arthur collapsed.”
“Did he see the fire?”
“Yes.”
“Why was that never in the police report?”
“Because he was afraid.”
The room seemed to gather every confession it had been denied.
Grandma’s hand closed around the edge of the table. “You knew this?”
Jonah looked at her. “My father told me before he died.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was nineteen.”
“You have had twenty years since.”
“I did not know what was true.”
“You knew enough to carry it.”
Jonah accepted the blow.
“We all did,” Grandma said. “That was the arrangement.”
I turned to her. “What arrangement?”
She reached into the drawer and removed a folded statement. “After the fire, Warren agreed to sell the land to Arthur. He also agreed to pay for the cleanup. In exchange, I promised not to pursue criminal charges based on the records we had.”
“You made a deal with him.”
“I made a deal to keep Diane alive.”
“How was Diane in danger?”
“Warren had threatened her.”
“You never told the police.”
“The sheriff was Warren’s cousin.”
“So everyone chose silence.”
“Yes.”
Lillian’s voice was quiet. “That old agreement may not be enforceable now, but it explains Mercer’s urgency. He needs the land transferred before the historical records surface.”
“What records?”
Grandma looked at the fireplace.
“The copies Arthur made.”
“You said some survived.”
“They were given to a man who promised to publish them.”
“Who?”
“A reporter.”
“Where are they now?”
Grandma’s eyes moved to Diane.
“Your mother knows.”
I turned. “Diane?”
My mother had gone pale.
“No,” she said.
“You know where the records are?”
“I know where they were.”
“Where?”
“In Elise’s hospital room.”
The name silenced us.
“Why would records about the land be in her room?”
Diane’s voice broke. “Because I took them there. I wanted Mother to see what Arthur had done before he died. I wanted her to understand why he was meeting Warren. Then Elise got sick, and I forgot the envelope.”
“You forgot evidence in a hospital room?”
“I was nineteen.”
“What happened to it?”
“A nurse found it after Elise died. She gave it to me years later.”
“Where is it now?”
Diane looked at the locked study.
“With everything else we refused to discuss.”
Lillian stood. “Then the immediate priority is not the sale. It is retrieving those records and notifying the court.”
Outside, a black sedan slowed on the road.
May you like
Cal Mercer did not stop.
He only watched the house as he passed.
