Chapter 5: The Man Who Bought Other People's Homes
Gordon Price had a reputation for buying houses nobody else wanted.
He purchased properties in foreclosure, renovated them cheaply, and sold them for enormous profits.
At least, that was what his website claimed.
In reality, Ray knew a different Gordon Price.
Three years earlier, Ray had helped a retired mechanic named Walter Jenkins recover thousands of dollars after a predatory property scheme nearly cost him his home.
Walter had been eighty-one.
His wife had died.
His children lived out of state.
And Gordon Price had approached him with an offer to refinance his property.
By the time Walter understood the agreement, the house had been transferred to a company he had never heard of.
Ray and Marcus had spent months helping Walter challenge the transaction.
The case eventually collapsed when several key witnesses refused to cooperate.
Gordon walked away without facing serious consequences.
Ray had never forgotten his name.
Now the same name was attached to Dorothy's house.
"He's back," Ray muttered.
Marcus closed the office door.
"Apparently, he's been busy.""
He opened a folder containing several property records.
"Over the last eighteen months, Miller Property Solutions has handled twelve distressed-property transactions in this county. Four involved elderly homeowners.""
"How many lost their houses?"" Frank asked.
"Three.""
Leon leaned against the wall.
"That's not a coincidence.""
Marcus shook his head.
"No. But proving fraud is another matter.""
Dorothy sat quietly in the corner.
She had not spoken since hearing Gordon's name.
Finally, she asked, "What happens to me?""
Marcus pulled his chair closer.
"First, we challenge the power of attorney. We also need to establish whether the loan documents were properly executed.""
"Can they take my house tomorrow?""
"If the sale goes through, stopping it becomes much harder. We need to act quickly.""
Dorothy stared at her hands.
"Forty-one years.""
Marcus nodded.
"I know.""
"No, you don't."" Her voice broke.
"My husband built the porch swing. He measured every board himself. He used to sit there after work and tell me that one day the maple tree would be bigger than the roof.""
Ray looked toward the window.
Outside, the late afternoon sun was fading.
Dorothy wiped her cheeks.
"I can't lose that house.""
"You won't face this alone," Marcus promised.
He picked up his phone.
"I'm calling an attorney who handles elder financial exploitation. She'll need copies of everything.""
While Marcus made the call, Ray stepped into the hallway.
He dialed an old contact.
A man named Thomas Reed.
Thomas had worked in commercial banking before becoming a compliance investigator.
"Tom, I need information on a company called Miller Property Solutions.""
Thomas paused.
"Why?""
"Because they're involved in a foreclosure scheme.""
"Do you have a name?""
"Gordon Price.""
The silence lasted several seconds.
Then Thomas said, "Where did you hear that name?""
Ray told him about Dorothy.
Thomas exhaled.
"Ray, you need to understand something. Price doesn't usually buy properties directly.""
"What does he do?""
"He uses holding companies. Multiple layers. Different names. Different registered addresses.""
"Why?""
"Because when one company gets into trouble, the assets are already somewhere else.""
Ray leaned against the wall.
"Can you trace the buyer?""
"I can try.""
"There's a deposit of one hundred and twenty thousand dollars.""
Thomas became quiet.
"That amount might be the key.""
"Why?""
"Because I've seen that figure before. A few months ago, a property company received several transfers from an account connected to an estate-management trust.""
Ray frowned.
"Whose trust?""
"I don't know yet. But I remember the account number.""
Thomas promised to investigate and hung up.
When Ray returned to the office, Dorothy was talking to the attorney.
Her name was Elaine Porter.
She was in her fifties, wore reading glasses on a chain, and had the kind of calm voice that made people listen.
"Mrs. Miller, I'm going to ask you some questions. I need you to answer honestly, even if the answers are uncomfortable.""
Dorothy nodded.
"Did Daniel ever ask you to give him access to your bank account?""
"Yes.""
"When?""
"About a year ago. He said he needed to pay the property taxes.""
"Did you give him your banking password?""
Dorothy hesitated.
"I gave him the information because he said it would make things easier.""
"Did you notice any unusual withdrawals?""
Dorothy looked embarrassed.
"I thought the bank had made a mistake.""
Elaine opened her notebook.
"How much?""
"Three thousand dollars at first. Then another five thousand.""
"Did you ask Daniel?""
"Yes. He said the money had gone toward repairs.""
"Did you receive receipts?""
Dorothy shook her head.
Elaine exchanged a look with Marcus.
"Mrs. Miller, this may be bigger than the house.""
Dorothy closed her eyes.
"Please don't tell me he took everything.""
"We don't know that yet.""
A knock interrupted them.
Marcus opened the door.
A young woman stood outside.
She was holding a small envelope.
"Is Dorothy Miller here?""
Dorothy looked up.
"Yes?""
The woman stepped inside.
"My name is Jessica. I live two houses down from you.""
Dorothy recognized her.
"Jessica, sweetheart. Is everything okay?""
Jessica looked nervous.
"I saw what happened yesterday. Your son was yelling at you.""
Dorothy lowered her eyes.
Jessica placed the envelope on the desk.
"I found this in my mailbox. It was addressed to you, but someone had crossed out your name and written mine.""
Marcus picked it up.
"Who delivered it?""
"I don't know. It was there this morning.""
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a printed photograph.
Dorothy was standing outside her house, holding a grocery bag.
The photograph had been taken through the front window.
Beneath it was a handwritten message.
*SHE DOESN'T NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING. KEEP HER QUIET UNTIL THE TRANSFER.*
Dorothy gasped.
Ray's expression hardened.
"Who sent this?""
Jessica shook her head.
"I don't know.""
Elaine examined the photograph.
"Was there anything else?""
Jessica nodded.
She reached into her handbag and produced a second piece of paper.
"I found this tucked inside the envelope.""
It was a copy of an email.
The sender was Daniel.
The recipient was Melissa Miller.
The subject line read:
*MOVE HER BEFORE FRIDAY.*
Marcus began reading aloud.
"Once the transfer is complete, we can place her in the facility. She won't have access to the property records, and she won't be able to interfere.""
Dorothy's face went white.
Ray looked at Elaine.
"Facility?""
Elaine nodded grimly.
"Possibly an assisted-living facility.""
Dorothy whispered, "I don't need one.""
Then she looked at the second paragraph.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
The email continued:
*Sarah has the original authorization. Patricia will confirm the hospital visit if anyone asks. Mom still thinks the house belongs to her. Don't let her speak to the attorney.*
Nobody spoke.
Dorothy looked at the photograph of herself.
Then at the email.
"Patricia," she whispered.
Her neighbor.
The woman who had brought her soup after Frank died.
The woman who had sat beside her hospital bed.
The woman Dorothy had trusted with her spare house key.
Ray slowly stood.
"Marcus, I need you to make copies of that email.""
"Already doing it.""
Elaine placed the documents in a protective folder.
"These are important. We need to preserve the originals.""
Dorothy looked at Ray.
"Why would they do this?""
Ray didn't have an easy answer.
But before he could speak, Marcus's phone rang again.
He listened for several seconds.
Then he looked at Ray.
"Thomas found the buyer.""
"Who?""
Marcus turned his phone around.
A photograph appeared on the screen.
It showed a man standing outside a luxury office building.
Ray recognized him immediately.
Gordon Price.
But there was another person beside him.
A woman wearing a familiar cream-colored coat.
Melissa Miller.
And between them stood a young man holding a folder.
Daniel.
The three were smiling.
Like business partners celebrating a successful deal.
Marcus enlarged the photograph.
"There's something else, Ray.""
"What?""
"The property isn't being purchased for renovation.""
"Then what?""
Marcus looked at the documents.
"It's being transferred into a trust.""
Dorothy leaned forward.
"Whose trust?""
Marcus hesitated.
Then he answered.
"Your husband's estate trust.""
Dorothy stared at him.
"That's impossible. Frank's estate was settled years ago.""
Marcus looked at the next page.
"Apparently, someone has opened a new account using your husband's name.""
Ray felt the pieces shifting into place.
The house.
The loan.
The forged authorization.
The sudden pressure to move Dorothy out.
Someone wasn't simply trying to steal a property.
They were trying to make it appear that the entire transaction had been authorized by the family.
And the name attached to the new trust wasn't Daniel's.
May you like
It was Frank Miller's.
The dead man's name.
