Chapter 3 - The Paperwork Trap
I didn't head for the boarding gate. I walked straight to the airport parking garage, got into my car, and dialed my personal real estate attorney, Arthur Vance.
"Clara?" Arthur answered on the second ring. "Aren't you supposed to be at thirty thousand feet right now?"
"Arthur, I need you to pull up the title deed for the coastal property in Monterey immediately," I said, my voice steady and cold. "My brother is currently inside the house with a listing agent, claiming he has my power of attorney to sell it."
A heavy silence fell over the line, followed by the rapid clacking of a keyboard.
"That’s impossible," Arthur said sharply. "You never signed a power of attorney. If Julian has a document with your signature on it, it’s a federal forgery."
"Check the county recorder’s database," I instructed. "Did he try to file anything?"
"Give me thirty seconds... Okay, I’m in. Clara, there’s a pending title transfer document uploaded to the county portal three hours ago. It purports to transfer legal management rights from your name to Julian Vance. The signature is a digital copy of your handwriting—likely lifted from the purchase agreement you signed for their previous mortgage payoff."
My hand tightened on the steering wheel. They hadn't just taken my money; they had committed felony fraud to steal my largest physical asset.
"Can he sell it?" I asked.
"Not legally," Arthur replied. "But if an unsuspecting buyer puts down a cash deposit or an unscrupulous broker rushes the closing, it could take months of legal battles to untangle, during which your asset could be frozen or damaged."
"How fast can you freeze the deed?"
"I can file an emergency injunction and a notice of fraudulent encumbrance within the hour," Arthur said. "But Clara... if we trigger this, the police will be involved. Julian will face criminal charges."
May you like
I thought back to my mother’s voice on the phone just twenty minutes ago: Your father and I just wanted a peaceful vacation without constantly hearing about everything you’ve done for us.
"File the injunction," I said quietly. "And call the Monterey County Sheriff. I’m driving down there right now."
