Chapter 3: Forty-Eight Hours
Ray arrived at Dorothy's house the following morning with two friends.
Marcus had advised him not to confront Daniel without evidence, but Ray wasn't interested in starting a fight.
He wanted to see Dorothy.
He wanted to know whether she understood what was happening.
And most importantly, he wanted to know whether she had actually signed the loan documents.
His friends, Frank and Leon, waited beside their motorcycles.
Frank was a retired firefighter with a calm voice and a habit of carrying peppermints in his pocket.
Leon was younger, broad-chested, and usually the first person to speak when something made him angry.
"Remember," Ray told them, "we're here to talk.""
Leon looked at the property sign.
"Talk first. Got it.""
Ray knocked.
No answer.
He knocked again.
The curtain moved.
A few seconds later, Dorothy opened the door.
Her face brightened when she saw him.
Then she noticed the other two men.
"Oh, Ray.""
"Morning, Dorothy.""
"Is something wrong?""
"I was hoping we could talk.""
She looked over her shoulder.
"Daniel isn't going to like this.""
Ray lowered his voice.
"Is he home?""
"No. He went to the office.""
"Would you mind if we came inside?""
Dorothy hesitated.
Then she stepped aside.
"Just for a minute.""
The house smelled of cinnamon and old furniture polish.
A small vase of artificial flowers sat on the dining table. Beside it was a framed photograph of Dorothy and Frank on their wedding day.
Ray took a seat.
Frank and Leon remained near the entrance.
Dorothy brought out a tray with three cups of tea.
"I'm afraid I don't have much to offer.""
"Tea is perfect," Frank said.
Dorothy smiled faintly.
For a few minutes, they spoke about ordinary things.
The weather.
The maple tree.
The neighbor's dog that kept digging holes in her flowerbed.
Then Ray placed a folded piece of paper on the table.
"Have you heard about a loan against this property?""
Dorothy stopped moving.
Her fingers tightened around the teapot.
"What loan?""
Ray watched her carefully.
"Nearly four hundred thousand dollars.""
The teapot slipped.
Tea spilled across the table.
Dorothy stared at him.
"No.""
Ray gently moved the paper away from the liquid.
"There's a recorded lien.""
"No, no. That can't be right.""
"Did you sign anything recently?""
Dorothy shook her head.
"Daniel gave me papers last month. He said they were insurance documents.""
"What kind of papers?""
"I don't know. There were so many pages. He said I needed to sign at the bottom because he was helping me update the house records.""
Ray leaned forward.
"Did anyone explain that you were taking out a loan?""
Dorothy looked at him.
"No.""
Frank's expression darkened.
"Did a notary come to the house?""
Dorothy nodded slowly.
"A woman came with Daniel. She said she needed to verify my identity.""
"Did you receive copies?""
"I asked for them.""
"What happened?""
Dorothy's eyes filled.
"Daniel said he'd keep everything organized. He told me I lose important papers.""
Ray exchanged a look with Marcus's old friend Frank.
This was worse than he had imagined.
"There's something else," Ray said.
Dorothy looked at him.
"The loan is connected to a company owned by Daniel.""
Her face went pale.
"My son wouldn't do that.""
Ray didn't answer.
Dorothy stood abruptly.
"No. Daniel has always taken care of me.""
She walked to the mantelpiece and picked up Frank's photograph.
"When my husband died, Daniel handled the funeral. He paid the bills. He helped me with the insurance. He's been so busy with work.""
Her voice cracked.
"He wouldn't steal my house.""
Ray let her hold onto that belief for a moment.
Then he asked, "Why did you tell me he checks every receipt?""
Dorothy stared at the photograph.
"Because he said I was spending too much.""
"On what?""
"Food. Electricity. Medicine.""
Frank shook his head.
"Medicine isn't a luxury.""
Dorothy sat down.
"He said the house would be sold eventually anyway. That I should move somewhere smaller.""
"Did he tell you where?""
"A retirement community.""
"Do you want to move?""
Dorothy shook her head.
"I want to stay here.""
Ray nodded.
"Then we need to find out exactly what happened.""
A car door slammed outside.
Dorothy's head snapped toward the window.
"Oh, no.""
Daniel's voice rang through the house.
"Mom! Why are there motorcycles in my driveway?""
The front door opened before anyone could answer.
Daniel walked in holding a cardboard folder.
His eyes moved from Ray to Frank, then to Leon.
"What the hell is this?""
Ray stood.
"We're talking with your mother.""
Daniel pointed toward the door.
"Get out.""
Dorothy rose.
"Daniel, please. They were just—"
"I wasn't talking to you.""
The room fell silent.
Ray stepped between them.
"She's allowed to speak in her own house.""
Daniel laughed without humor.
"Her house? That's an interesting way to describe it.""
He opened the folder and pulled out a document.
"Do you want to see the paperwork? The house is already under contract. Everything is legal.""
Ray held out his hand.
"Let me see it.""
Daniel snatched it back.
"No.""
"Then show it to your mother.""
Daniel turned toward Dorothy.
"Mom, go upstairs.""
She didn't move.
"Daniel, is there really a loan against the house?""
His expression changed.
For a second, he looked almost frightened.
Then the anger returned.
"Who told you that?""
"Ray.""
Daniel looked at Ray with open hatred.
"You have no idea what you're talking about.""
"Then explain it.""
Daniel slammed the folder onto the table.
"Fine. I borrowed against the property. It was a business investment. I was going to repay it.""
"Did your mother understand what she signed?""
"She signed the documents.""
"Did she understand them?""
Daniel stepped closer.
"That's none of your business.""
Dorothy reached for the folder.
"Daniel, may I see them?""
He pulled it away.
"No.""
"Please.""
"I said no!""
He grabbed the medication bag from the counter, which Dorothy had apparently managed to retrieve the previous evening from his jacket, and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
"You're not taking anything else until you learn to stop listening to strangers.""
Dorothy looked at the bag.
Ray's jaw tightened.
"Give her the medication.""
Daniel pointed at him.
"Get out of my house.""
"Her house," Ray corrected.
Daniel shoved Ray's shoulder.
It happened quickly.
Leon stepped forward.
Frank grabbed his arm.
Ray caught Daniel's wrist as the younger man swung again.
The two stumbled against the hallway wall.
Daniel lost his balance and crashed into the wooden fence visible through the open doorway, sending a flowerpot tumbling across the porch.
"Enough!"" Frank shouted.
Ray immediately released him.
Daniel pushed himself upright, breathing hard.
"You just assaulted me!""
"You pushed first," Ray replied.
Dorothy rushed forward.
"Please! Stop! Both of you!""
Something fell from Daniel's jacket.
A large envelope landed near her feet.
Dorothy bent to pick it up.
"What's this?""
Daniel's face went white.
"Give it to me.""
But Dorothy had already opened the envelope.
Inside were several printed pages.
She read the first one.
Then the second.
Her lips began to tremble.
"Daniel?""
He lunged toward her.
Ray moved between them.
Dorothy stepped backward, clutching the papers.
"What is this?""
Daniel said nothing.
She looked at the first page again.
A bold heading read:
*NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE AND SCHEDULED PROPERTY SALE.*
Below it was the address of her home.
And a date.
Forty-eight hours away.
Dorothy's knees nearly gave out.
Frank caught her arm.
"Easy, ma'am.""
She looked at the final page.
There was a realtor's name printed beneath the sale information.
Melissa Miller.
Dorothy stared at it.
Then she looked at Daniel.
"Why is Melissa selling my house?""
Daniel's silence was answer enough.
But it was the final paragraph that made Dorothy's hands shake uncontrollably.
It stated that the buyer had already deposited the required funds and that the property would transfer immediately after the scheduled sale.
Ray took the papers and read the final line.
Then he looked at Daniel.
"Who is the buyer?""
Daniel swallowed.
"That's not relevant.""
"Who is it?""
"Stay out of this!""
Dorothy looked between them.
"Daniel, please tell me.""
For the first time, her son seemed unable to find the words.
Then Ray noticed something on the document.
A signature.
Not Daniel's.
Not Melissa's.
A signature authorizing the sale on Dorothy's behalf.
He read it twice.
His stomach tightened.
Because the name printed beneath the signature wasn't a stranger's.
It belonged to someone Dorothy had trusted almost as much as her husband.
Ray slowly turned the paper toward her.
Dorothy stared at the name.
And whispered:
"My daughter?""
Her daughter, Sarah, had been listed as the person authorized to sell the house.
But there was something even more disturbing.
The authorization was dated six months before Dorothy had ever met the notary.
And according to the document, Sarah had signed it while Dorothy was unconscious in the hospital.
Ray looked at Daniel.
"How did you get this signed?""
Daniel's eyes flickered toward the front door.
Then his phone began ringing.
The name on the screen was *SARAH*.
He answered.
"Not now.""
A woman's voice came through loudly enough for everyone to hear.
"Daniel, is Mom there? We have a problem.""
Daniel closed his eyes.
"What problem?""
May you like
Sarah's next words silenced the room.
"Because the buyer just called me. He says he wants the original agreement—and he wants Mom moved out before tomorrow night.""
