Chapter 5 - The Sheriff and the Master Deed
The silence on the front lawn became suffocating. The wealthy prospective buyers under the canopy stopped mid-sip, their eyes shifting between Todd Myers and the Sheriff.
"Todd," Arthur said calmly, holding up a document. "This is an emergency Cease-and-Desist order issued by the North Carolina Superior Court, along with a certified Notice of Lis Pendens recorded thirty minutes ago at the Registrar of Deeds. You are formally notified that the property known as parcel 402-B, the Summers Homestead, is held under the Evelyn Summers Irrevocable Heritage Trust."
Arthur turned his gaze to Beatrice, whose eyes were wide with sudden, animal panic.
"Beatrice Summers never held fee-simple title to this estate. She was granted a conditional life estate, which terminated automatically at 8:15 AM today upon the unauthorized execution of your listing contract. The sole Trustee, and the sole fee-simple owner of this entire sixty-eight-acre property, is Bridget Summers."
A collective murmur rippled through the gathered investors. One man in an olive vest muttered an expletive, pulled his phone from his pocket, and immediately began dialing his legal counsel.
"That's a lie!" Beatrice shrieked, her voice cracking into shrill hysteria. "Evelyn didn't leave a trust! She was senile! She signed whatever Arthur Finley put in front of her! That old witch was out of her mind on painkillers for the last two years of her life! I am her daughter! The bloodline goes to me!"
"Careful, Beatrice," Sheriff Hawkins warned, his voice dropped an octave into deadly seriousness. "I was in the room when Evelyn signed that trust five years ago. Doc Henderson certified her sound mind, and I personally witnessed the notarization. You're barking up a tree that’s going to fall directly on your head."
Todd Myers grabbed Arthur’s arm, his slick composure entirely shattered. "Arthur, wait—listen. We can talk about this. Beatrice told me she had full power of attorney after Evelyn passed. I ran a title search—"
"You ran a quick-index search on an unprobated estate, Todd," Arthur interrupted, swatting Todd’s hand away with cold disdain. "You knew damn well Evelyn used this office for forty years. You didn't call me because you knew what I’d say. You wanted to slip this property into your brother-in-law's holding company before anyone noticed the trust deed recorded in book 412. That’s bad faith, Todd. That's real estate board revocation territory. And if you don't take that gaudy sign off this girl’s grass in the next five minutes, I will file formal ethics charges with the state licensing board before five o'clock."
Todd’s face turned the color of curdled milk. He turned on his heel, grabbed his clipboard, and practically sprinted toward his Mercedes without saying another word to Beatrice.
"Todd! Todd, get back here!" Beatrice screamed, her hands flailing wildly. "We have a contract! You promised me a three-hundred-thousand-dollar cash advance by Friday!"
"The contract is null and void, Beatrice," Arthur said coldly. "Because you cannot sell what you do not own."
Meanwhile, Presley’s phone was buzzing frantically in her hand. Her eyes were darting across her screen, reading the incoming comments from her followers who had watched the entire exchange broadcast live in high definition.
*“Wait, she’s trying to sell her dead grandma’s house out from under her sister?”*
*“The sheriff just called them out!”*
*“Is this real? Is she an illegal trespasser? LMAO the cringe!”*
*“Unfollowing. Fake lifestyle scammer.”*
"Turn it off! Presley, turn it off!" Beatrice yelled, grabbing Presley’s arm and dragging her toward the porch.
Presley ended the stream with trembling fingers, her face flushed red with humiliation. She glared at me, her eyes burning with pure venom. "You think you’re smart, Bridget? You think this makes you better than us? You’re still a dirty waitress! You can't even afford to keep the heat on in this drafty barn!"
Sheriff Hawkins stepped between Presley and me, his hand resting on his service weapon.
"That’s enough from both of you," Hawkins commanded. "Ladies, you have an official legal notice in your hands. Under the terms of the trust violation, your residency is terminated. Ms. Bridget Summers is the legal owner of this property. Out of respect for Evelyn, she has granted you forty-eight hours to pack your personal clothing and vacate the premises."
Beatrice clutched her throat, her chest heaving as if she were having a heart attack. "Forty-eight hours?! To pack an entire house?! Where are we supposed to go?!"
"That," Arthur Finley said, stepping aside to let me walk up the front porch steps, "is entirely your concern. At 2:00 PM on Thursday, Sheriff Hawkins will return with an eviction warrant. If you are still on this property, you will be arrested for criminal trespass. Have a productive afternoon, Beatrice."
May you like
I walked past my mother and my half-sister. For the first time in my life, I didn't look down at my shoes. I looked them straight in the eyes, unlocked the heavy oak front door with my own key, and stepped into my home.
***
