Chapter 9 - THE MEN IN GRANDPA'S ORCHARD
By the time I reached the western gate, three men were unloading equipment beside Grandpa's apple trees.
One had already removed part of the old wooden fence.
Another was marking the ground with fluorescent orange paint.
I recognized the trees immediately.
Grandpa and I had planted two of them when I was nine.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
The crew supervisor turned.
“Site preparation.”
“For whom?”
“Parker Family Holdings.”
My stomach dropped.
“That company doesn't own this property.”
The man looked confused.
“We were given authorization.”
“By Richard Parker?”
“Yes.”
I looked toward Dad.
He had followed us down the garden path.
He raised both hands.
“Emily, don't overreact. They're only preparing the site for an inspection.”
“Then why are they removing the fence?”
He didn't answer.
Rebecca arrived moments later.
She examined the paperwork and immediately contacted the crew's office.
The authorization had been issued using a copy of the same questionable documents my parents had circulated.
It also claimed Grandpa had agreed to remove restrictions on the land.
Rebecca's expression hardened.
“The conservation easement is recorded. This paperwork does not establish that it has been lawfully released.”
The contractor stopped work immediately.
Nobody wanted to become involved in a property dispute involving possible forged documents.
A sheriff's deputy arrived after Rebecca reported the unauthorized entry and property damage.
Dad began protesting.
“It's a family misunderstanding.”
I looked at him.
“No. It's trespassing on property you don't own.”
The deputy took statements.
The crew loaded its equipment.
Fortunately, the trees were still standing, although the fence and several young saplings had been damaged.
I walked to the oldest apple tree and rested my hand against its trunk.
Grandpa used to call it the stubborn one because it survived a terrible winter when everything around it froze.
I understood why he'd loved it.
Then Brianna approached.
“Emily.”
I turned.
She was holding her phone.
“I recorded what Mom said yesterday.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What?”
“She called me after I refused to search the safe.”
Brianna looked ashamed.
“I started recording because she kept threatening to cut me off financially.”
She played the audio.
Mom's voice filled the air.
Your grandfather was supposed to leave us everything. Emily has no idea how much trouble she's causing.
Then Brianna asked about the forged signature.
Mom replied:
I signed the papers because Emily would've refused. Your father needed the deal to go through.
I felt cold.
Brianna continued the recording.
You mean you forged her name?
Mom's answer was unmistakable.
Don't be dramatic. We were doing what was necessary for the family.
Rebecca asked Brianna to preserve the original recording and provide it to the attorney handling the investigation.
My sister nodded.
Dad looked at her as though she'd betrayed him.
“Brianna, you're making a terrible mistake.”
She turned toward him.
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“I think this is the first time I've stopped making the same mistake.”
For a moment, I almost reached for her hand.
Then Rebecca's phone rang.
She listened carefully.
When she ended the call, her expression was grave.
“Emily, there's another document we need to examine.”
“What document?”
“A purported amendment to your grandfather's trust, dated four days before his death.”
My father stopped moving.
Rebecca looked directly at him.
“It removes Emily as beneficiary and names Diane instead.”
I stared.
Grandpa had barely been able to hold a glass of water four days before he died.
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Someone was claiming he'd signed away his life's work while lying in a hospital bed.
And judging by the expression on Dad's face, he knew exactly where that document had come from.
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