Chapter 9 - The Detective’s Warning
The detective’s office was small, cluttered with stacked case files and a half-empty mug of cold coffee, but it offered a welcome barrier against Karla’s muffled sobbing echoing from the outer room.
I settled into a metal chair across from Harris’s desk, keeping Sophia occupied with a small notebook and a spare pen.
Harris flipped open the manila folder, sliding a certified copy of the property deed across the desk toward me. “Legal title is ironclad. You have every right to execute an eviction or adjust tenancy terms as the primary owner. From a criminal standpoint, your family has no leg to stand on.”
“I’m aware,” I said quietly, watching the ink dry on my own name. “I didn't ask for this war, Detective. I simply stopped paying for a lifestyle built on their contempt.”
Harris leaned back in his squeaky leather chair, studying me with sharp, intelligent eyes. “Civil law is on your side, Mrs. Hayes. But human nature isn't always so predictable. Your mother and sister are panicking because their entire social standing was built on a foundation of smoke. Desperate people do irrational things when their illusions are stripped away.”
“Let them panic,” I replied, my voice hard. “They’ve spent years treating my survival as an inconvenience. If they want a legal battle, my corporate counsel is more than happy to oblige.”
“It might not stay in a courtroom,” Harris warned, leaning forward, lowering his voice. “When I went out to the apartment to manage the lockout dispute, I noticed something strange in your father’s home office. Your mother was frantically shredding bank statements and corporate correspondence before we could secure the premises.”
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My brow furrowed. “Shredding what?”
“Statements tied to a secondary account—not Vanguard Capital, but a private offshore trust managed under an alias your father used back when he was dabbling in commercial real estate ten years ago,” Harris said carefully. “Whatever your family was hiding, it goes a lot deeper than a suburban mortgage subsidy. Someone is funding their lavish lifestyle from a source they’re terrified the IRS—or you—might discover.”
