Chapter 3: What Lucas Left Behind
The woman from the black sedan was in her fifties, with silver-streaked hair pulled back tightly and a charcoal blazer that looked like it had never seen a wrinkle.
She walked up the porch steps without looking at Charles once.
Her eyes went straight to me.
"Mrs.
Gallagher?" she said.
"I'm Patricia Odom.
I'm a senior associate at Hargrove and Vance.
Samantha asked me to come directly."
Another contraction rolled through me.
I pressed my hand flat against the railing.
"I'm here," I said.
Patricia opened the envelope and held it so I could see the top line without having to reach for it.
The document was stamped with a county seal.
Beneath it, in clean black type, were the words: *Recorded Deed of Trust — Joint Tenancy with Right of Survivorship.*
"This was filed the week after your second anniversary," Patricia said.
"Your name has been on this property for four years, Mrs.
Gallagher.
It cannot be sold, transferred, or liquidated without your written and witnessed consent."
Charles stepped onto the porch.
"That document doesn't change the debt situation," he said.
His voice had recovered some of its steadiness.
"Lucas borrowed against this property.
The lender has rights regardless of whose name is on the deed."
Patricia turned to look at him for the first time.
"Mr.
Baldwin," she said, "I'd encourage you to speak with your own attorney before making any further claims about this estate.
The account you attempted to access this morning is a protected trust.
The signature you submitted was flagged by the bank's fraud detection system at nine forty-seven a.m.
The county recorder's office has been notified.
So has the district attorney's financial crimes unit."
The color left Charles's face so completely that even Courtney noticed.
"Charles," she said quietly.
"What did you do?"
He ignored her.
He was staring at Patricia.
"I want to see that flagged document," he said.
"You'll see it when the DA's office contacts you," Patricia replied.
She turned back to me.
"Mrs.
Gallagher, the ambulance is two minutes out.
Is there anything you need before it arrives?"
I looked past Patricia at my father.
He was standing very still, one hand gripping the porch railing, his folder pressed against his chest like it could still protect him.
"No," I said.
"I have everything I need."
The ambulance turned the corner.
Behind it, a second police cruiser.
Charles watched them come.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone again.
His thumb moved fast across the screen.
"Who are you calling?" Courtney asked.
He didn't answer her.
But I saw the name on the screen before he turned away.
*Harlan Briggs.*
I knew that name.
Lucas had said it once, two years ago, at the kitchen table, after a phone call that had left him quiet for the rest of the evening.
When I'd asked who it was, he'd said: *Someone your father uses when he needs things to disappear.*
My chest tightened — and it had nothing to do with the contractions.
May you like
Whatever Charles had just set in motion, it wasn't over.
Not even close.
