Chapter 11 - Raymond Cole
Raymond called me that night.
His voice was smooth.
Almost friendly.
“Connor, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“You tried to borrow money against my house.”
“Your mother was trying to help.”
“With forged signatures?”
He sighed.
“Those are serious words.”
“They’re serious crimes.”
Another pause.
“You engineers think everything is black and white.”
I almost laughed.
“My house is black and white.”
“Family property can be complicated.”
“My mother does not own my house.”
“Maybe not technically.”
That word caught my attention.
“What does technically mean?”
Raymond chuckled.
“Ask your lawyer.”
Then he hung up.
Rachel already had.
The next morning, we met at the county recorder’s office.
No deed transfer had been completed.
Our names remained on title.
Then the clerk found something else.
A document had been submitted electronically twelve days earlier.
It had been rejected because of a notary discrepancy.
It was a quitclaim deed.
The same type of form we found in Teresa’s box.
The document attempted to transfer a fifty percent interest in our house into something called the Bradley Family Preservation Trust.
Trustee.
Teresa Bradley.
Successor trustee.
Raymond Cole.
Amy stared at the page.
“They were trying to take half our house.”
Rachel nodded carefully.
“They were trying.”
My signature was forged.
Amy’s was worse.
But the notary seal belonged to a real person.
Betsy Wilson.
Aunt Betsy.
I felt physically ill.
“She notarized it?”
Rachel pointed to the rejection code.
“Apparently without proper verification.”
We drove straight to Betsy’s catering business.
She tried to close the office door when she saw us.
I stopped it with my hand.
“You notarized a fake deed.”
Her eyes filled immediately.
“Teresa said you agreed.”
“Did you watch Amy sign?”
“No.”
“Did you watch me sign?”
“No.”
“Then why did you notarize it?”
Betsy started crying.
“Because she promised to save my business.”
Amy stared at her.
“With our house.”
Betsy covered her face.
“I didn’t know Raymond was involved.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
She looked at us suddenly.
“Raymond is the reason Teresa needed the money.”
I froze.
“What do you mean?”
Betsy lowered her voice.
“He owes people.”
“What people?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much?”
“More than a hundred thousand.”
Amy whispered.
“And Teresa was going to use us.”
Betsy nodded.
Then she told us something else.
Raymond had convinced Teresa that if she controlled part of our property, they could borrow against it repeatedly.
The first eighty-five thousand dollars was only supposed to be the beginning.
They were not planning one theft.
They were planning to turn our home into their private bank.
Before we left, Betsy grabbed my arm.
“There’s something else.”
I stopped.
She looked terrified.
May you like
“Your mother has been telling Raymond that if Amy leaves, she can get you to sign anything.”
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