Chapter 5 - THE SIGNATUREI drove to Dad’s house with Naomi following in her car.
Evan wanted to come, but one of us needed to pick up the twins from day camp. We agreed that he would take them to his mother’s house until I understood what was happening.
Dad lived twenty minutes away in the redbrick colonial where Diane and I had grown up.
The house had once belonged equally to all of us in the emotional way childhood homes do. After Mom died, it became Dad’s place, then gradually Diane’s headquarters.
Her car sat in the driveway.
So did a black pickup truck belonging to her latest boyfriend, Trent Lawson.
I parked at the curb.
Naomi stepped out carrying a leather folder.
“You don’t have to go inside,” she said.
“It’s my account.”
“And your father’s house.”
“He told me to come.”
“That doesn’t mean the situation is stable.”
I looked toward the front windows.
A curtain moved.
“Stay beside me.”
Dad opened the door before we reached it.
He had changed into a plaid shirt and khaki pants. His face looked older than it had that morning.
When he saw Naomi, his expression hardened.
“You brought a lawyer?”
“You used an account I control to send more than four thousand dollars to a title company.”
“It was temporary.”
Naomi spoke calmly.
“Mr. Parker, my name is Naomi Brooks. Kristen has asked me to advise her regarding the unauthorized transactions and forged restaurant document.”
Dad stepped aside reluctantly.
Diane stood in the living room beside the fireplace.
Trent leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He was tall, heavily tattooed and wearing mirrored sunglasses indoors, which told me almost everything I needed to know about how he wanted people to perceive him.
Diane pointed at Naomi.
“She doesn’t need to be here.”
“I do,” Naomi said. “Because my client’s financial information has been used without permission.”
“Your client is my sister.”
“That does not grant you access to her credit.”
Diane rolled her eyes.
“You people are turning a family disagreement into a federal case.”
“No one said federal,” Naomi replied.
Trent shifted away from the wall.
“Maybe everybody should relax.”
I ignored him.
“What is Northwest Title Services?”
Diane looked at Dad.
He looked at the floor.
“It’s an escrow company,” she said.
“For what?”
“The lake house.”
“What about it?”
“We’re refinancing.”
The lake house had belonged to my mother’s parents. Mom inherited it before she married Dad. After her death, Dad received the right to use the property during his lifetime, but Diane and I were named equal beneficiaries.
At least that was what I had been told.
“You can’t refinance property you don’t own outright,” I said.
“We’re correcting the title.”
Naomi opened her folder.
“Who is ‘we’?”
Diane smiled without warmth.
“Dad and me.”
“Kristen is a beneficiary,” Naomi said. “Any transaction affecting her interest may require notice or consent.”
Diane’s smile faded.
“She doesn’t have an interest yet.”
“What did the $4,280 pay for?” I asked.
“Closing costs.”
“Closing what?”
Dad finally looked up.
“A transfer.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“To whom?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Diane.”
The room tilted slightly.
“You transferred the lake house to Diane?”
“It isn’t finished.”
“You told me Mom left it to both of us.”
“She did.”
“Then how can you give it to her?”
Diane stepped between us.
“Because Dad has the authority.”
Naomi’s gaze sharpened.
“Under what document?”
Diane walked to the coffee table and picked up a blue folder.
She removed several pages and handed them over.
Naomi read silently.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A durable power of attorney,” she said. “Signed eight months ago.”
Eight months earlier, Dad had undergone shoulder surgery. Diane stayed with him for two weeks because I was recovering from pneumonia and the twins had influenza.
I remembered calling every day.
Diane always said he was sleeping.
“Dad, did you sign this?”
“Yes.”
“Did you understand what it allowed?”
“I trusted her to help with bills.”
Naomi continued reading.
“This grants broad authority over real estate, banking, investment accounts and personal property.”
Dad looked at Diane.
“You said it was standard.”
“It is.”
“No,” Naomi said. “This is significantly broader than a basic financial-assistance document.”
Diane snatched the pages back.
“You don’t represent him.”
“That’s true. But I can read.”
Trent stepped forward.
“Richard wanted Diane to handle the property. That’s all.”
“Why?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“Because she’s the one who’s been here.”
I stared at him.
“I live twenty minutes away.”
“You have your own life,” Diane said. “Your perfect husband. Your perfect house. Your perfect children.”
“Do not bring my children into this again.”
“There it is,” she said. “The command voice. Kristen decides, and everybody is supposed to fall in line.”
“You forged my signature.”
“You agreed to pay for the dinner.”
“I didn’t sign the form.”
“You would have signed it if you weren’t being dramatic.”
Naomi spoke before I could.
“That is an admission that Ms. Parker did not sign it.”
Diane’s face changed.
“I didn’t admit anything.”
“The conversation is being documented.”
Trent moved closer to Naomi.
“Are you recording us?”
“No,” she said. “But I’m taking notes.”
Dad raised both hands.
“Stop. Everyone stop.”
No one did.
I pointed at the folder.
“Did you use the power of attorney to access my emergency account?”
“It was connected to Dad,” Diane said.
“I am the primary owner.”
“Then you shouldn’t have given him access.”
“He needed a way to pay for emergencies.”
“This is an emergency.”
“Transferring inherited property to yourself is not an emergency.”
Dad sank into his chair.
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“After it was finished.”
“Why after?”
“Because I knew you’d object.”
The answer struck harder than another lie would have.
He knew.
He understood exactly what the property meant and exactly what my response would be. He hid the transaction because my objection was reasonable.
“Why are you giving her the lake house?”
Dad looked toward a framed photograph of Mom on the mantel.
“Diane needs security.”
“I have debts,” Diane said.
“You created those debts.”
“I lost my business.”
“You drained it.”
“I was betrayed by my partner.”
“You were sleeping with him.”
Trent looked at her.
“What?”
Diane’s head snapped toward him.
“That was before you.”
“You said he stole from you.”
“He did.”
“After you were sleeping together?”
“This isn’t relevant.”
I almost laughed.
For once, Diane’s chaos had collided with itself.
Naomi closed her folder.
“Mr. Parker, the power of attorney can be revoked if you are competent and acting voluntarily. The proposed property transfer may also be challenged depending on the trust and deed language.”
Dad stared at her.
“Challenged by whom?”
“Kristen, for one.”
His eyes met mine.
“You would sue me?”
“I would stop you from giving away something Mom left to both daughters.”
“She left you more than enough.”
“What does that mean?”
Diane folded her arms.
“It means you already got your share.”
“I didn’t receive anything.”
Dad’s face lost color.
I turned toward him.
“What is she talking about?”
“Nothing.”
Diane laughed.
“Oh, now it’s nothing?”
“Diane,” he warned.
“No. She wants transparency. Let’s give her transparency.”
She walked toward the dining room and returned carrying a cardboard banker’s box.
She dropped it on the coffee table.
The lid shifted.
Inside were account statements, canceled checks, insurance documents and several envelopes bearing my mother’s handwriting.
“I found these after his surgery,” Diane said. “Your perfect father has been moving money around for years.”
Dad rose.
“Put that away.”
“What money?” I asked.
Diane pulled out a yellowed statement.
“Mom’s education trust.”
I looked at Dad.
“What education trust?”
“The one she created for future grandchildren,” Diane said. “The one Dad emptied after your twins were born.”
The room became completely silent.
I took the statement from her.
The original balance was sixty-two thousand dollars.
The account had been closed five years earlier.
Lucas and Mia had been two.
“Where did the money go?” I asked.
Dad sat down again.
Diane answered for him.
“Some paid his mortgage.”
Dad covered his face.
“And the rest?” I asked.
Diane looked almost pleased.
“The rest paid for my boutique.”
I stared at the man who had arrived on my porch that morning threatening to deduct his restaurant bill from my children’s Christmas gifts.
He had already taken something far larger from them.
“Tell me she’s lying,” I said.
Dad lowered his hands.
“I intended to replace it.”
“With what?”
“The lake house.”
The logic arrived all at once.
He had used the twins’ education money to save Diane’s business. Then, instead of restoring it, he planned to transfer the lake house to Diane too.
“Why would giving Diane the lake house replace money you took from my children?”
Dad looked trapped.
“It wouldn’t.”
“No.”
“I was going to sell another asset.”
“What asset?”
He said nothing.
Diane’s expression shifted.
For the first time since we entered, she looked nervous.
I turned toward her.
“What else is there?”
Dad’s voice broke.
“I used the college money because Diane said she would lose everything.”
“She did lose everything.”
“I thought the boutique would recover.”
“It didn’t.”
“I made a mistake.”
“No. A mistake is forgetting a birthday. You emptied a trust created by my dead mother for my children.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I was desperate.”
“You were always desperate when Diane wanted something.”
“I love both of you.”
“Then why does loving her always require taking from me?”
No one answered.
Outside, a car door closed.
A moment later, someone knocked.
Dad looked toward the hall.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Naomi asked.
Diane’s face went pale.
Trent removed his sunglasses.
The knock came again, louder.
A man’s voice called through the door.
“Mr. Parker? This is Daniel Ruiz from Northwest Title Services. We need to discuss irregularities in the transfer documents.”
Naomi looked at Diane.
“What irregularities?”
Diane backed toward the dining room.
May you like
Dad stared at the blue folder in her hand.
Then he whispered, “What did you sign for me?”
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