Chapter 4 - The Owl That Never Blinked
By morning, my father had changed the locks.
I learned that when I drove past Foxglove Point with Leona and saw a locksmith's van parked below the porch. Clara sat in the shade drinking iced tea. A strip of gauze decorated her forehead, nowhere near where she'd landed.
"Don't confront her," Leona said. "Get an attorney."
We went to meet June Calder, a property lawyer in town whose father had helped Mom buy the lake place. June listened without interrupting, then looked up the county records on her laptop.
"The house is held by the Nina Hart Family Trust," she said. "Thomas is allowed to live there. That doesn't mean he can sell it."
"Sell it? Nobody said anything about selling it."
June turned the screen. A recent notice showed a planned transfer involving an investment company called Briar Landing LLC. The transfer wasn't completed, but a closing was scheduled for Friday.
"Friday is four days away," I said.
"That's why we move carefully and fast. You were named as a beneficiary, Emily. I'll obtain the full trust documents before I tell you exactly what that means."
She told me to preserve every message, photograph, and possible recording. The word recording brought back the ceramic owl.
"I know where Mom kept an old camera."
"Do you have authorized access to the account?"
"I inherited her photo archive and the family security login. Dad made me reset it for him last spring."
Back at Leona's kitchen table, I opened the dusty password notebook Mom had left with my childhood pictures. The camera app still recognized her account. One device was active: SUNROOM EAST. Recent clips sat under a folder labeled MOTION EVENTS.
I tapped the newest file. A grainy view of the sewing desk appeared. It showed the glass doors to the porch and the antique display cabinet beside them.
Clara walked into frame carrying Mom's green jewelry box. She opened it, checked the hallway, and removed a small ruby pendant. Then she bent toward someone sitting out of view.
"The girl suspects," she said.
May you like
A man's voice answered, "Then finish the papers before she comes back."
It was my father's voice.
