Chapter 8: The Witness Who Wasn't
Diane filed a formal records request with the Oregon Secretary of State the following morning — a full disclosure of Lakeview Asset Group's organizational documents, including the member name that had been shielded behind the registered agent.
It took four business days.
When the documents arrived, Diane called me at work.
I stepped into the hallway outside the cardiology unit and pressed the phone against my ear.
"The single member of Lakeview Asset Group," she said, "is listed as a Kyle R.
Callahan."
I leaned against the wall.
"Kyle owns the company," I said.
"Kyle owns the company.
Your father is not listed anywhere in the organizational documents.
Which means one of two things — either your father genuinely doesn't know, or your father knows and agreed to keep his name off it."
"Kyle is twenty-nine years old.
He doesn't have the money to run a property acquisition company."
"He doesn't need money to register an LLC.
He needs fifteen dollars and a registered agent.
The company itself has no assets on record.
It's a shell — created for the purpose of filing that title inquiry and establishing a paper trail of interest in your property."
I thought about Kyle's texts.
The clock emoji.
*Give it time.*
"He was building a record," I said.
"He was creating documentation of interest so that if they ever pushed for a legal claim, there would be a company on file that had formally expressed intent to acquire."
"That's my read as well."
"And the verbal agreement with a witness — that's Kyle claiming he was present for a conversation where I supposedly agreed to something."
"Yes.
Which is why I want to depose him."
I was quiet for a moment.
Depose.
The word landed differently than I expected.
This was no longer a locked door and a folder of photographs.
This was depositions and LLC filings and a law firm on SW Morrison Street.
"Diane," I said.
"Is this actually going to court?"
"It doesn't have to.
In my experience, when the other side realizes their paper trail has been examined and their strategy is visible, they frequently reassess.
Brandt knows I've pulled the organizational documents.
He knows I know about Kyle.
The question now is whether your father and Kyle want to continue, or whether they want to find a way to step back without losing face."
"And if they want to continue?"
"Then we continue.
And we win.
Your documentation is complete.
Their documentation is fabricated.
That's not a close case."
I went back to work.
I finished my shift.
I drove home.
That evening, I received a call from a number I didn't recognize — a Bend area code.
I almost didn't answer.
I answered on the fourth ring.
It was my aunt Carol.
"Claire," she said, and her voice was different from the text she had sent.
Quieter.
More careful.
"I need to tell you something.
I wasn't sure whether to call, but I think you need to know."
"Okay," I said.
"Your father called me last week.
Before the weekend.
He asked me if I would be willing to say that I had been present for a conversation — years ago — where you agreed to always make the house available to family.
He said it was just to help resolve a dispute and that it wouldn't go anywhere serious."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"I said no," Carol said.
"I was never present for any such conversation.
It never happened.
And I told him I wasn't going to say it did." A pause.
"Claire, I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner.
I didn't understand how serious it was until I started hearing from Kyle too.
He called me yesterday and asked the same thing, in different words."
"They asked you to be the witness," I said.
"Yes."
I sat down on my kitchen floor, my back against the cabinet.
"Carol," I said.
"Would you be willing to tell my attorney what you just told me?"
A pause.
A long one.
May you like
"Yes," she said.
"I would."
