Chapter 10 - Eli’s Land
The rear access parcel had been purchased using money from Eli’s custodial account.
Not mine.
His.
After my divorce, Grandma left each grandchild a small investment fund.
Mom became custodian again through falsified documents.
She drained part of Eli’s account and used it, through Pacific Meridian Holdings, to purchase the bluff strip.
Legally, the purchase could be traced to assets belonging to Eli.
Samantha’s conclusion was blunt.
“We can seek a constructive trust.”
Meaning the parcel could ultimately belong to my son.
Jenna had spent days telling Eli he didn’t belong at the beach house.
Meanwhile, his money had helped buy the land behind it.
I almost wanted to tell her immediately.
Then I didn’t.
For once, information would remain with the person it belonged to.
Eli.
He was ten.
He didn’t need a property battle.
He needed summer.
So I explained only enough.
“Grandma used some money that was supposed to be yours.”
“Did she buy my sailboat?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t care.”
Children sometimes simplify morality better than courts.
“What do you care about?”
He held the repaired boat.
“Can we still go to the beach?”
“Yes.”
“Then okay.”
I kissed his head.
But legally, it wasn’t okay.
We froze Pacific Meridian assets.
Mark panicked.
Jenna stopped fighting.
Mom retained a criminal attorney.
Dad filed for separation.
The family finally fractured formally.
Then Victor Hale returned.
This time, Samantha was present.
He offered $16 million for the cottage and easement rights.
Rachel almost laughed.
“Still low.”
Victor looked at her.
“You’re Melissa’s daughter.”
Rachel stiffened.
“How do you know?”
That question changed the room.
Victor shouldn’t know.
He realized too late.
Samantha leaned forward.
“Mr. Hale, why does your company have information about Dr. Mercer’s family relationships?”
Victor closed the folder.
“We conduct due diligence.”
“On biological relationships?”
No answer.
Then Rachel said:
“Who gave you the trust files?”
Victor stood.
“Meeting over.”
I blocked the door.
Not physically.
With one sentence.
“If you leave without answering, I notify the Coastal Commission that you withheld geotechnical risk information.”
He stopped.
Slowly sat again.
Then told us.
Elaine.
Mom had approached Ocean Crown eighteen months earlier.
Not recently.
Before the rear parcel purchase.
Before my decision to sell.
She offered Victor a coordinated acquisition.
My cottage.
Rear land.
Two neighboring properties.
She provided family financial records to prove she could influence me.
Victor didn’t believe her completely.
But he listened.
Then she told him something extraordinary.
“She said the cottage would eventually become hers.”
“How?”
“Your death.”
The room went cold.
Victor raised a hand.
“She did not threaten you.”
“Then explain.”
“She produced an estate document indicating the cottage passed into the family trust if you died before your children reached eighteen.”
Samantha stood.
“That document does not exist.”
Victor opened his archived file.
It did.
Forged.
Again.
But this forgery had been created five years earlier.
Long before the current dispute.
Mom had been building a legal fiction around my property for years.
Why?
Then Samantha noticed the witness signature.
Not Jenna.
Not Mark.
My ex-wife Claire.
I stopped breathing.
“No.”
Victor said:
“She told us Claire Mercer witnessed it.”
I called Claire.
She answered.
“Daryl?”
“Did you sign anything involving the cottage after our divorce?”
Silence.
Then:
“One document.”
My chest tightened.
“What did Mom tell you it was?”
“A temporary guardianship protection in case something happened to you.”
“Did you read it?”
“No.”
Of course.
Everyone in my life had signed things without reading.
Then Claire whispered:
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Elaine asked me to sign it the night you were hospitalized.”
I frowned.
“I wasn’t hospitalized five years ago.”
“Yes, you were.”
“What?”
Claire’s voice dropped.
“You don’t remember?”
I didn’t.
May you like
Then she said:
“You were unconscious for almost two days.”
