Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT THE HOUSE FOUGHT BACK
I stayed hidden at the top of the stairs.
My phone was pressed against my chest.
The dispatcher whispered through the speaker.
"Ma'am, officers are on the way."
I could hear drawers opening downstairs.
Then glass breaking.
One of the men cursed.
"There's nothing here."
Ilsa answered.
"She moved it."
My hands shook.
She knew.
She knew I had the documents.
Footsteps approached the stairs.
I backed away.
Then Griffin appeared from the hallway.
He looked at me.
I put a finger against my lips.
His eyes widened.
He heard them too.
We stood frozen.
Then Griffin whispered:
"Girls?"
"Asleep."
He nodded.
We moved silently toward the girls' room.
I woke them.
Merisette immediately understood something was wrong.
"Tansy, put on your shoes."
"Why?"
"Because we're going downstairs."
We moved through the hallway.
Then a man's voice shouted.
"Someone's upstairs!"
Griffin grabbed my arm.
"Run."
We rushed toward the back staircase.
The alarm suddenly screamed.
Lights flashed.
The security system activated.
The intruders panicked.
Someone ran toward the front door.
Police sirens appeared outside.
Within seconds, officers entered the house.
Two men were arrested.
Ilsa was found in the study.
She was sitting in a chair.
Calm.
Almost amused.
One officer approached her.
"Ma'am, step away from the desk."
She smiled.
"This is a family matter."
"No."
I stepped into the room.
"This is a criminal investigation."
She stared at me.
"You have no idea what you're doing."
"I know exactly what I'm doing."
She looked at Griffin.
"Tell her."
He said nothing.
"Griffin."
He still said nothing.
For the first time, I saw the fear in her face.
The police searched the room.
One officer found the safe.
Another found a hidden compartment beneath the desk.
Inside were copies of property documents.
And one envelope addressed to me.
I opened it.
Inside was a contract.
A power-of-attorney agreement.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
I stared.
"I never signed this."
The officer looked at Griffin.
Griffin went pale.
Ilsa smiled.
"You did."
"No."
I looked at the signature.
It looked like mine.
Almost.
But there was one detail.
My father had taught me to sign my name with a long curved stroke beneath the final letter.
This signature didn't have it.
Forgery.
I handed it to the officer.
"This is fake."
Ilsa's smile disappeared.
The officer photographed it.
Then he opened another drawer.
Inside was a second document.
This one had Griffin's signature.
It transferred management rights of the property to Whitaker Family Holdings.
Griffin stared at it.
"I never signed that."
I looked at him.
Then at Ilsa.
She had stopped smiling.
One of the officers asked:
"Who is Whitaker Family Holdings?"
Nobody answered.
Then Griffin whispered:
"My mother."
The officer turned toward him.
"You need to come with us."
My heart stopped.
"Why?"
The officer looked at the documents.
"Because we have questions."
Griffin turned toward me.
"Claire."
I couldn't answer.
He had lied to me for years.
But now he looked more frightened than guilty.
As the police led him away, he stopped beside me.
"There is something I haven't told you."
"What?"
He looked at the girls.
Then whispered:
"Your father left me a letter."
I stared at him.
"Where is it?"
May you like
He swallowed.
"Mom has it."
