Chapter 6 - Shadows on Mill RoadAt 6:00 a.m. on Saturday, my old Ford truck rumbled to life outside the shop. I had boarded up the broken kitchen window, packed our legal files into a secure metal briefcase, and loaded Pete, Jade, and Lily into the cab.
The drive east toward Knoxville took us through winding mountain roads wrapped in morning fog. Jade sat beside me in the passenger seat, watching the misty trees sweep past.
“You haven’t asked me why I didn’t call the police about the brick,” Jade said quietly after an hour of silence.
“Because small-town police reports take three days to process,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the highway. “And Marcus’s lawyers would have used an open police investigation to request a continuance in probate court, pushing the hearing back six months while your estate funds froze.”
Jade looked at me, a soft, genuine smile finally appearing on her face. “You think like a lawyer, Owen.”
“No,” I chuckled softly. “I think like a mechanic. When an engine is knocking, you don’t stand around writing reports about the noise. You fix the part that’s broken.”
She reached out and rested her hand gently on my knee. The warmth of her touch sent a surge through me, a quiet reassurance that despite the chaos around us, we were in this together.
By noon, we arrived at the Oakridge Senior Community in Knoxville.
Evelyn Vance was seventy-four years old, living in a bright, sunlit cottage filled with potted ferns and old photographs. She sat in a cozy armchair while Pete explained the situation and showed her the photo-copy of the forged loan document.
Evelyn put on her reading glasses, adjusted her sweater, and inspected the page.
“That’s my old seal stamp, alright,” Evelyn said, her voice raspy but sharp. “It was stolen out of my desk drawer during an estate sale at my house two years ago. I reported it missing to the county sheriff!”
Jade leaned forward, breathless. “So you never notarized this document?”
“Child,” Evelyn said firmly, looking Jade straight in the eye, “I haven’t signed an official document since my stroke in April of last year. My right hand doesn’t even hold a pen properly anymore. Whoever signed my name on that paper forged it completely.”
May you like
Pete pulled a clean affidavit document from his bag. “Mrs. Vance, would you be willing to sign a sworn statement and allow us to record a video deposition for the probate judge?”
Evelyn smiled fiercely. “Son, bring me a pen. I’ll sign whatever it takes to stop a crook from stealing from Robert Calloway’s girls.”
Related Stories
