Chapter 3 - The Cottage He Wanted So Desperately|
Julian denied everything.
He insisted the necklace had come from a reputable jewelry dealer. He accused Morgan of ruining a thoughtful gift by treating it like evidence in a crime investigation.
When she asked for the receipt, he said he had paid cash.
When she asked for the jeweler's name, he said he couldn't remember.
When she asked why the necklace cost eight thousand dollars, he accused her of caring more about money than romance.
By midnight, Morgan was exhausted.
She pretended to fall asleep while Julian worked on his laptop in the spare room. Through the bedroom wall, she heard the faint rhythm of his keyboard and the occasional murmur of his voice.
At 1:12 a.m., he entered the bedroom.
Morgan kept her breathing steady.
He stood beside the bed for several seconds.
Then he whispered, “You should have worn it.”
Her entire body went rigid.
He walked away.
The next morning, Morgan called the county office in Door County and requested a copy of the property records for her grandmother's cottage.
The cottage had belonged to Clara Hayes, a retired school librarian who had spent most of her life collecting books, planting fruit trees, and making sure every child in her neighborhood had somewhere safe to go after school.
Clara had left the property to Morgan outright.
There was no mortgage.
No lien.
No outstanding tax debt.
The cottage was worth considerably more than Morgan had realized, especially because the surrounding area had become popular with buyers looking for quiet vacation homes.
But the property meant more to her than its market value.
When Morgan was eight, her parents had divorced. Her mother moved out of state, and her father worked long hours as a mechanic. Clara had taken Morgan to Door County every summer, teaching her to bake pies, identify wildflowers, and sit quietly when life became overwhelming.
The cottage had been the one place where Morgan had never felt like a burden.
After Clara died, Morgan promised herself she would never sell it.
Julian had initially pretended to understand.
Then his business ventures began failing.
The first time he asked her to sell the cottage, he said they could use the money to purchase a small distribution company.
The second time, he claimed a logistics partnership would finally make them financially secure.
The third time, he showed her a spreadsheet predicting an annual return of thirty percent.
Morgan had refused every time.
Now she wondered whether his obsession with the property had anything to do with the necklace.
At noon, she called a local real estate attorney named Patricia Webb.
Patricia had handled Clara's estate and knew the property well.
“Has anyone approached you about purchasing the cottage?” Morgan asked.
There was a pause.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“A representative of a development company contacted me last month. They wanted to know whether you would consider a private sale.”
“What company?”
“Northstar Development Group.”
Morgan wrote down the name.
“Did you give them any information?”
“Only public property records. I told them you had no intention of selling.”
Morgan thanked her and ended the call.
She searched Northstar Development Group online. The company specialized in acquiring older properties near lakes and wooded areas. Its website featured glossy photographs of luxury homes and promises of exclusive developments.
The managing director was a man named Gregory Vance.
Morgan recognized the name from a document she had seen on Julian's laptop months earlier.
At the time, Julian had described Vance as a potential investor.
Now the connection made her uneasy.
She called Denise.
“Do you remember Gregory Vance?”
“The real estate guy?”
“Yes. Julian said he might invest in one of his businesses.”
Denise was quiet.
“Have you checked Julian's financial records?”
“I can't access all of them.”
“You've been paying the bills for seven years. Start with what you can see.”
Morgan opened the joint banking application.
There were transfers she did not recognize. Some were small—two hundred dollars, five hundred dollars, twelve hundred dollars. Others were larger.
One transfer had been made the day before Julian gave her the necklace.
$8,250 — NORTHSTAR CONSULTING.
Morgan stared at the screen.
The necklace had supposedly cost eight thousand dollars.
The transfer was for slightly more.
She took a screenshot.
Then she opened the transaction details and found the account reference.
The payment had originated from a joint savings account she had believed was nearly empty.
Someone had moved money without telling her.
A new message arrived on her second phone.
Saturday. Noon. Morton conservatory. The cottage is the real reason.
Morgan felt her pulse quicken.
May you like
Whoever was contacting her knew about Northstar.
And they knew what Julian wanted.
