Chapter 9 - THE RANCH WAS NEVER REALLY HIS TARGET
Samuel was on the phone before Frank reached the hallway.
“Freeze the filing.”
Frank laughed.
“You can’t freeze something already submitted.”
I looked at him.
“What did you file?”
“A lien.”
“Based on what?”
“Debt.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
He smiled.
“Not personally.”
Samuel covered the phone.
“The filing references Hale Agricultural Development.”
I knew the company.
It owned mineral rights and water rights connected to several ranch parcels.
But it had been inactive for years.
Then I remembered.
Frank had helped create it.
Thirty-one years earlier.
“Your name is still buried in the original documents,” he said.
“Not as an owner.”
“As a creditor.”
That was technically true.
Frank had once loaned the development company $900,000.
The debt had been repaid.
I had proof.
Or thought I did.
Frank continued.
“The release was never properly recorded.”
My stomach sank.
That kind of mistake could happen.
Especially decades ago.
He did not want the ranch house.
He wanted leverage.
Water rights.
Mineral rights.
Development rights.
The property’s future value.
I looked at Madison.
“You knew?”
She shook her head.
Frank laughed.
“She thought this was about inheritance.”
Eric looked disgusted.
“So you used her.”
“I worked with her.”
“No,” Madison whispered. “You used me.”
Frank turned toward her.
“You were useful.”
That sentence finally broke whatever hold he had.
Madison took out her phone.
Frank’s eyes narrowed.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending Thomas everything.”
His calm disappeared.
“What everything?”
She looked at me.
“Emails.”
Eric stared at her.
“Emails with Frank?”
“And recordings.”
Frank took one step toward her.
Samuel stepped between them.
No drama.
Just presence.
Madison backed away.
“I recorded him too.”
Frank’s face went white.
Interesting.
Eleanor had taught more than one person the value of preparation.
Madison emailed the files to Samuel.
There were dozens.
Instructions.
Draft documents.
Bank directions.
Conversations about Eric.
Conversations about me.
Then Samuel opened one audio file.
Frank’s voice filled the room.
“We don’t need Thomas dead. We need him isolated, grieving, and willing to sign.”
The library went silent.
I felt sick.
Not because he wanted me dead.
Because he had been planning around Eleanor’s death.
“How did you know she was dying?”
Frank said nothing.
Madison stared at him.
Then she whispered, “He knew before Eric did.”
I looked at her.
“How?”
May you like
She swallowed.
“Because he had someone inside Eleanor’s medical office.”
