Brandon pointed at the folder. “I have papers.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said. “That’s the problem.”
My attorney, Evelyn Price, pulled in behind me thirty seconds later. She stepped out in a gray suit, carrying the kind of composure that makes guilty people sweat.
Brandon’s jaw tightened. “Why is she here?”
Evelyn looked first at the man in the navy suit. “Mr. Keller, correct? The buyer?”
He nodded much too quickly.
She opened her tablet. “Interesting. Because Keller Holdings was dissolved last year. And your license to broker real estate was suspended after a wire fraud complaint.”
Tessa grabbed Brandon’s arm. “What does that mean?”
“It means your boyfriend got scammed while committing fraud,” I said.
Brandon snapped, “I did not commit fraud.”
Evelyn handed him a copy of the real deed.
Six months earlier, after Brandon “borrowed” my property records to help with family tax planning, I had moved the farmhouse into a protected charitable trust. The land could not be sold without approval from three trustees, two legal notices, and my verified in-person signature.
Brandon had none of those.
What he had was an old photocopy, a forged authorization letter, and arrogance.
The fake buyer had convinced him to sign documents claiming he held power of attorney over my estate. Then Brandon wired the three million—not to a valid escrow account, but to Tessa’s “business partner,” who had disappeared that morning.
Tessa went pale. “You said the money was safe.”
Brandon turned on her. “You said your investor handled luxury properties.”
Evelyn’s phone rang.
She answered, listened, then looked at me.
“County fraud unit is on the way,” she said. “And Clara, the bank confirms the wire went through a shell account tied to Tessa’s company.”
Tessa whispered, “No.”
I looked at my brother. “You stole from me to impress someone who was stealing from you.”
Then two sheriff’s vehicles turned onto the road.
Brandon stepped back from the gate.
But the gate stayed locked.
PART 3
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