“If Daniel tried to control your finances, remove you from the property, or have you declared incapable of handling your affairs.”
The photograph on the mantel seemed to look directly at me.
“What did Robert know?”
“I would rather explain in person.”
“Tell me now.”
“I can tell you that the document filed in July contains a signature that resembles yours, but I do not believe you signed it.”
“I didn’t.”
“Then we are dealing with fraud.”
My knees weakened.
I sat down.
“Who notarized it?”
Naomi exhaled.
“Your sister Linda.”
Linda arrived at eleven that morning carrying a casserole dish.
I watched through the window as she stepped from Mark’s SUV.
My older sister had always dressed carefully, even in bad weather. Her camel coat was belted perfectly at the waist, and her gray hair curved smoothly beneath a wool hat.
She lifted one hand when she saw me.
I opened the door but did not invite her in.
“Eleanor, thank God.” Her eyes moved over my face. “I’ve been calling all morning.”
“My phone was off.”
She glanced behind me.
“This is the house?”
“Yes.”
“You bought it?”
“Yes.”
“Without telling anyone?”
“I told my attorney.”
A flicker crossed her eyes.
She held up the casserole.
“I brought breakfast.”
“I have already eaten.”
“May I come inside?”
“Did you notarize a power of attorney for Daniel in July?”
The casserole dish shifted in her hands.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Her expression softened into concern.
“Oh, Eleanor. Is that what Naomi told you?”
“Did you?”
“It was paperwork Daniel asked me to witness.”
“My signature was on it.”
“He said you had signed it earlier.”
“A notary is supposed to witness the signature.”
Linda looked down the driveway.
“I may not have followed the precise procedure, but Daniel said it was urgent.”
“What did he tell you the document was for?”
“Helping with bills.”
“It authorized him to sell my house.”
Her eyes widened.
“I didn’t read every page.”
“You stamped your name and license on a document involving my home without reading it?”
“Don’t speak to me like I am one of your children.”
“I would never permit a child to behave so irresponsibly.”
Her lips tightened.
Snow gathered on the shoulders of her coat.
“May I please come inside?”
“No.”
“Eleanor, I came to help.”
“Then tell me about North Valley Consulting.”
For the first time, Linda’s composure cracked.
The casserole nearly slipped from her hands.
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You answered too quickly.”
“I have never heard of it.”
“Daniel used my credit card to send four payments to that company.”
“Then ask Daniel.”
“I asked you.”
“And I told you.”
Behind her, Mark’s SUV remained running.
I could see his silhouette through the windshield.
He did not get out.
“Who owns North Valley Consulting?” I asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Naomi will find out.”
Linda’s eyes sharpened.
“You always run to lawyers when family matters could be settled privately.”
“I have never run to a lawyer before.”
“You are letting one ugly dinner destroy the family.”
“No. The dinner revealed what had already destroyed it.”
Her jaw trembled.
“Daniel is terrified. Melissa is hysterical. The boys don’t know what is happening.”
“They watched their father throw me out.”
“He lost his temper.”
“And you notarized a fraudulent document.”
“I made a clerical mistake.”
“A mistake is misspelling a middle name. You helped place my house for sale.”
She stepped closer.
“You need to be careful, Eleanor.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. It is concern. You are upset, making rash decisions, moving money, cutting people off—”
“You have been speaking with Daniel.”
“Of course I have.”
“Did he ask you to tell people I am confused?”
Linda’s silence answered.
I felt something inside me go still.
Not break.
Breaking was loud and painful.
This was quieter.
A final door closing.
“Leave,” I said.
“Eleanor—”
“Take the casserole and leave my property.”
Her face hardened into something I had never seen directed at me.
“You have always believed Robert made you smarter than everyone else.”
“This has nothing to do with Robert.”
“It has everything to do with him.”
Mark tapped the horn.
Linda turned toward the SUV, then looked back.
“Daniel is your only son. When this anger passes, remember who will be left to take care of you.”
I closed the door.
Through the glass, I watched my sister carry the casserole back to the waiting car.
Before she climbed inside, she took out her phone.
She was already calling someone.
I knew it was not to ask whether I was safe.
Naomi Price’s office occupied the second floor of a restored brick building in downtown Lancaster.
She had been Robert’s attorney for twenty-two years and mine for eight.
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