Chapter 6: February 25th
The county inspector's name was Walt Greer, and he had been doing foundation assessments for twenty-two years.
He arrived at the property on the morning of February 25th at nine o'clock, two hours before the scheduled closing.
I was already there.
The buyer — a man named Todd Ferris who had flipped fourteen properties in the last three years — pulled up in a silver pickup at 9:15.
He saw me standing on the front walk and slowed down.
"You the seller?" he called through the window.
"I'm the original owner," I said.
"The sale was conducted without my legal consent.
My attorney filed a title dispute with the county recorder yesterday afternoon."
Todd Ferris got out of the truck.
He was younger than I expected, mid-thirties, with the confident posture of someone who had never lost money on a deal.
"Lady, I have a signed contract and a closing scheduled in two hours."
"You have a contract signed with a forged Power of Attorney and notarized by a man whose license expired in 2019." I held out a copy of the recorder's filing.
"Your title company has already been notified.
I'd suggest calling your attorney before you go to that closing."
He took the paper.
His eyes moved across it fast, then slowed down.
He pulled out his phone.
Walt Greer appeared from the side of the house.
"Mr.
Ferris?
You're going to want to see the crawl space before you make any calls."
---
The three of us stood at the edge of the crawl space access panel on the north side of the foundation.
Walt had his flashlight and his tablet.
He crouched down, swept the beam slowly across the eastern wall, and made a sound that was not encouraging.
"See this cracking pattern here?" He pointed.
"That's not settling.
That's active movement.
The eastern corner has dropped approximately three inches since the last support was maintained." He stood and looked at Todd.
"When did you last have this inspected?"
Todd said nothing.
"The geotechnical survey on this property flagged severe subsidence risk three years ago," I said.
"The sale was listed As-Is.
No disclosure was made to you about the survey's existence."
Todd looked at me.
The confident posture was gone.
"How much is remediation?"
"Depends on how far it progresses before you address it.
The survey estimated a range of $40,000 to $90,000 if managed promptly." I paused.
"It wasn't managed promptly."
He called his attorney.
The call lasted four minutes.
When he hung up he looked at the house for a long moment, then back at me.
"I want my earnest money returned," he said.
"That's between you and the seller of record.
Which, legally, is still my father." I handed him Vera's card.
"She can walk you through the fraud claim process.
You may be entitled to more than just the earnest money."
Todd Ferris took the card, looked at it, and got back in his silver pickup.
He didn't go to the closing.
---
My phone rang at 11:40 AM.
Raymond.
I answered.
"The closing agent just called me," he said.
His voice was tight and controlled, the way it always got when he was furious and trying not to show it.
"The buyer walked.
What did you do?"
"I told him the truth about the foundation and showed him the title dispute filing."
"You had no right—"
"I had every right.
It's my property, Dad.
It was always my property.
You knew that when you forged my signature."
A long silence.
"I don't know what you think you can prove."
"The expired notary stamp is already on file with the county recorder.
Vera Simms filed the fraud complaint with the DA's office this morning.
Dennis Holt gave his formal statement yesterday." I let that sit for a moment.
"And Alyssa showed me the emails."
The silence that followed was different from the first one.
"Alyssa," he said.
Not a question.
A verdict.
"Don't call her," I said.
"Don't go to her house.
If you contact her before this is resolved, Vera will add witness intimidation to the filing."
"You're going to destroy this family."
"You destroyed it," I said.
"I'm just making sure there are consequences."
May you like
I ended the call.
My hand was steady.
