Chapter 4 - My Father’s Verification Call
Dad insisted he hadn't applied for anything.
Technically, that was true.
The bank recording showed something more complicated.
A loan officer called Richard Manning to verify whether Tracy Manning owned Hollow Pine and whether Nicole had an interest in it.
My father answered:
“Nicole has always been part of that property.”
False.
“What did you mean?”
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“Chris told me you were transferring it.”
“So you confirmed something you didn't know.”
“I thought it was paperwork.”
I laughed.
“I built that house.”
“I know.”
“No, Dad. You knew I had a house.”
Different thing.
He had never asked how I bought it.
How much debt I carried.
Whether I built it alone.
He knew nothing because knowing me had never been as important as managing me.
The bank had ultimately rejected the line of credit because title records did not match Nicole’s claimed ownership.
That should have ended the scheme.
Instead, they moved to court.
Why?
Maya had a theory.
“They needed a judicial order.”
A court ruling recognizing Nicole’s ownership could clean up prior defects.
Then a lender might accept the property as collateral.
Chris did not want the house.
He wanted leverage against it.
Nicole turned toward him.
“You told me we were moving there.”
Silence.
That was new.
She believed she was getting a mountain house.
Chris planned to borrow against it.
“Why do you need $1.4 million?”
He stared at Maya.
“None of your business.”
“Once you use my client’s property in a fraudulent loan application, it becomes very much our business.”
The detective returned.
He wanted Chris’s devices voluntarily.
Chris refused.
Arthur Bell suddenly agreed to provide his office computer.
Too eager.
Maya noticed.
So did I.
Bell wanted investigators looking at the office system.
Maybe because the real evidence was elsewhere.
I asked him one question.
“Who introduced Chris to you?”
Bell’s eyes flickered.
Nicole answered:
“Mom.”
Susan Manning.
My mother.
Everyone turned.
Mom looked offended.
“I recommended an attorney.”
“Why this one?”
“Arthur handled the country-club land dispute.”
Of course.
Bell had represented my parents before.
That meant he had access to old family records.
Signatures.
Addresses.
Tax documents.
Potentially mine.
Maya opened another file.
“Mrs. Manning, did you ever give Mr. Bell copies of Tracy’s financial records?”
Mom hesitated.
“Years ago.”
“Why?”
“Estate planning.”
I had never participated in family estate planning.
Yet apparently my documents had.
“How much of my information did you give him?”
“I don't remember.”
Then Nicole whispered:
“Mom said Tracy had twelve properties.”
I turned.
“What?”
Nicole realized too late.
At the beginning of the hearing, she had been shocked when I said twelve.
So how could Mom have told her?
Nicole shook her head.
“No. She said you might.”
A weak correction.
Then Maya looked at Susan.
“Mrs. Manning, how long have you known your daughter owns twelve properties?”
Mom’s face changed.
May you like
And suddenly I realized my parents had not underestimated me nearly as much as they pretended.
They had been tracking me.
