Chapter 6: Two Other Developers
Paul Greer received her call before noon.
"Two other developers," she said.
"Before Coastal Ridge.
I don't have names yet."
"Did either of them say anything more specific?"
"No.
Robert shut it down before Megan could explain.
But the way she said it — she wasn't surprised by the fact of it.
She was angry that he'd kept the fee from her.
Which means she knew about the conversations."
"All right." Paul's voice was steady.
"I'm going to run a broader title search.
If anything was filed against the property by any party in the last three years, it will come up."
"How long?"
"By end of day tomorrow."
She thanked him and set the phone down.
The cottage was quiet around her.
She walked through it slowly — not looking for anything specific, just moving through the rooms the way you move through a place when you're trying to remember what it felt like before you knew what you now know.
The kitchen.
The hallway.
The bedroom where Henry had slept on the left side for forty-one years.
The small bathroom where his razor was still in the cabinet because she hadn't been ready to move it.
She stood in the doorway of the sunroom for a long time.
Then she went back to the kitchen and called her daughter-in-law's mother.
Patricia Holt answered on the second ring.
She was Megan's mother — the woman who had apologized on the night the guests were sent home, who had said she genuinely believed the weekend had been approved.
"I need to ask you something," the widow said.
"And I need you to be honest with me."
"Of course." Patricia's voice was careful but not unkind.
"Did Megan ever speak to you about the cottage?
About plans for it?
About developers or property values or timelines?"
A pause.
"She mentioned once — maybe eighteen months ago — that the coastal market was very strong.
That a property like yours would be worth considerably more than people might expect."
"Did she mention anyone specific?
A company or a name?"
"She mentioned a man.
I don't remember the name.
She said he was very interested and that the timing would work out." Patricia stopped.
"I didn't ask more than that.
I assumed she meant after you were gone.
I didn't think it was my place to —" She stopped again.
"I'm sorry.
I should have said something to you."
"You didn't know what you didn't know," the widow said.
"Thank you, Patricia."
She ended the call and sat down.
Eighteen months ago.
That was six months before Robert had called Coastal Ridge.
Which meant Megan had been in conversation with someone before Robert made his call.
The sequence was not what Robert had described.
He had said Megan found the contact.
But the contact — or a contact — had existed before that.
Paul called the following afternoon.
"Two additional filings," he said.
"Both released — one in March of last year, one in July.
Different companies.
Both memoranda of understanding, same structure as the Coastal Ridge one.
Both name Robert as authorized representative."
"Three developers," she said.
"Three separate filings over fourteen months.
The first two were released — probably when the deals didn't move forward.
Coastal Ridge was the third attempt."
She pressed her hand flat on the table.
"This wasn't an impulse," she said.
"This was a campaign."
"That's one way to describe it."
"What's the legal way to describe it?"
Paul chose his words carefully.
"A sustained pattern of misrepresentation to third parties for financial gain, involving a property you own, without your knowledge or consent." He paused.
"That's a more serious picture than a single letter of intent signed in a moment of bad judgment."
"What are my options?"
He walked her through them.
Civil action for misrepresentation.
A formal complaint to the state bar if any attorney had assisted in the filings without verifying ownership.
A letter to all three developers documenting the misrepresentation, which would effectively close any future attempt to revive those arrangements.
"And Robert?" she asked.
"That depends on what you want.
You could pursue civil damages.
The fifteen thousand dollars, plus any costs you've incurred.
Or you could use the documentation as leverage to ensure this never happens again — without going to court."
"Which would you recommend?"
"I'd recommend letting him know exactly what you have.
All three filings.
The fee.
The photographs.
The timeline.
And then giving him one opportunity to respond before you decide."
She agreed.
That evening, she typed a message to Robert.
Not a call.
A message, so the words would exist somewhere he couldn't interrupt or redirect.
*I know about all three developers.
I know about the filings in March and July.
I know this started before Coastal Ridge.
I know this was not a single mistake.
I want you to come to the cottage alone on Wednesday.
Not with Megan.
Alone.
And I want you to tell me why.*
She sent it and set the phone face-down on the table.
Three minutes later, it buzzed.
She turned it over.
Robert had not replied.
Megan had.
*He's not coming Wednesday.
We need to talk first — just the two of us.
May you like
There's something about the March filing you don't know.
Something Robert doesn't know either.*
