Chapter 5 - The Other Emma Carter Was Alive Too
Mr. Hayes did not want me calling the Colorado funeral home myself.
So I didn't.
He did.
The next morning I sat across from him in a diner while snow started against the windows.
He put his phone down.
“The obituary Daniel found was wrong.”
“Wrong how?”
“The woman isn't dead.”
I stared.
“Seriously?”
“Her family posted an obituary draft after a climbing accident. She was found alive before publication, but an automated memorial page had already copied it.”
I almost laughed.
“So Daniel found a dead woman who wasn't dead to prove I was dead when I wasn't dead.”
Mr. Hayes took a sip of coffee.
“When you phrase it that way, the family resemblance becomes concerning.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then stopped.
“Could Hollis have mistaken her for me?”
“Not if they did ordinary verification.”
“Did they?”
“We'll find out.”
“Death certificate?”
“State vital records has no matching Colorado certificate under your identifiers.”
“So the one filed here is fake.”
“Yes.”
First solid answer.
“Who created it?”
“Still unknown.”
I leaned back.
“Daniel.”
“Likely involved is not the same as created.”
“Are you his lawyer now?”
“No.”
Mr. Hayes's voice cooled.
“And because I am not, I am free to tell you that your brother has behaved recklessly enough to need his own counsel.”
Good.
“What happens to the deed?”
“The county will flag the conflicting death record. We submit proof you're alive, challenge the filing, and protect title while they investigate.”
“Am I allowed to go into my own house?”
“Yes.”
“Can I throw Daniel out?”
“Not this morning.”
I frowned.
“He has no lease?”
“He has lived on the property for years with permission from the prior owner. Don't turn Christmas into self-help eviction law.”
I almost smiled.
“Margaret?”
“Same issue, stronger occupancy history.”
“So I own a mansion full of people who hate me.”
“Welcome to real estate.”
I looked out the window.
“Why did Mom offer Daniel the house?”
“Because she knew what he believed.”
“And why did she change her mind?”
“He rejected the offer.”
“That can't be all.”
“It wasn't.”
I waited.
Mr. Hayes wiped his glasses.
“Rebecca proposed a purchase price roughly sixty percent of market value.”
“Generous.”
“Yes.”
“She didn't need the money.”
“No.”
“What was the catch?”
“He had to obtain financing in his own name and agree that Margaret could remain for two years.”
“That sounds manageable.”
“He objected to needing financing.”
“Because he thought it was already his.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He objected to the appraisal.”
“Why?”
“He said putting a number on Carter House proved Rebecca saw it as property rather than family.”
I laughed softly.
“That sounds like Daniel.”
“It also sounded like Margaret.”
Of course.
“Mom then chose me.”
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“After your September argument.”
I looked at him.
“Did she tell you why?”
“Yes.”
“Are we still protecting the dead lawyer-client?”
Mr. Hayes put his glasses back on.
“I told you I would answer without simplifying her.”
“And?”
“She said you were the only person in the family who had ever suggested the house might not need to survive us.”
I stared at him.
“So Daniel was right.”
“About what?”
“She chose me because I'd sell.”
“No.”
Mr. Hayes shook his head.
“She chose you because you were willing to consider it.”
Different.
I sat with that.
“She wanted it sold?”
“Some days.”
“Other days?”
“She would call me furious because Margaret changed the Christmas garland.”
That made me laugh.
Mom.
Exactly.
Mr. Hayes continued:
“Rebecca was not free of attachment. She simply began to notice that everyone was using the house to win arguments that had nothing to do with walls.”
I looked down.
“That sounds like something she should've told us.”
“She tried.”
“Not me.”
He gave me a look.
Fair.
I had stopped answering.
“What did she want me to do?”
“She refused to tell me.”
That surprised me.
“What?”
“Keep it. Sell it. Rent it. Let Margaret stay forever. She did not give me an instruction.”
“Then why give it to me?”
“Because she thought Daniel already knew what answer he needed.”
I looked toward the snow.
“And I didn't.”
“Yes.”
Not exactly a compliment.
More like an assignment she had no right to hand me without asking.
I felt anger toward my dead mother for the first time in months.
That was healthier than worship.
Then Mr. Hayes's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His expression changed.
“Who?”
I asked after he hung up.
“Hollis Estate Services.”
“And?”
“They have agreed to preserve their file.”
“Good.”
He didn't look good.
“What?”
“They say Daniel was not the person who supplied the death certificate.”
I stared.
“Who did?”
“They won't disclose without counsel present.”
“Can they say when they received it?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“December eighteenth.”
Two days before Daniel said he opened the title challenge.
I sat back.
May you like
The false certificate had existed before Daniel formally hired the company.
Someone had started killing me on paper before my brother opened the file that used it.
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