Chapter 4 - The Loan Behind the Funeral Flowers
Rachel traced the lender through public filings.
Richard was seeking $410,000.
Far more than the alleged $260,000 purchase price.
The loan package claimed part of the proceeds would refinance business debt secured by construction equipment and accounts receivable.
Cole Custom Renovation was in trouble again.
Two subcontractors had sued for unpaid invoices.
A supplier had obtained a judgment.
Richard personally guaranteed much of the debt.
The Westerville house was supposed to become his way out.
“Could the lender ever have closed?” Alex asked.
“Not with a proper title search showing your recorded interest.”
“So why try?”
“Desperate people sometimes assume they can solve title at closing.”
Or intimidate the owner into signing.
That possibility explained the punch more than Alex wanted it to.
Samuel had anticipated pressure.
Three months before his death, he instructed Rachel to prepare documents confirming the deed and draft litigation papers if Richard attempted to encumber the house.
“Why didn’t you file then?”
“Samuel refused.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t want your mother displaced while he was alive.”
That sounded like Samuel.
Protect everybody until protection became impossible.
Alex went through the old maintenance records with Rachel.
The billing pattern widened.
Richard invoiced Samuel for repairs that homeowners insurance had also paid contractors to perform.
Some work existed.
Some appeared duplicated.
Approximately $96,000 could not be reconciled.
That still did not prove theft.
Richard could have subcontracted work.
Records could be missing.
Rachel insisted they investigate before accusing him.
Alex’s instinct was less patient.
“He punched me while trying to take legal papers.”
“That is evidence of assault. It is not an accounting degree.”
Rachel’s refusal to feed his anger helped.
That evening Alex went to urgent care and documented the swelling on his cheek.
Then he filed a police report.
No dramatic arrest followed.
An officer took photographs and said investigators would speak to Richard and Helen.
Richard texted Alex thirty minutes later.
You disappeared for eleven years and now you want to play grieving grandson. I gave that old man more of my life than you ever did.
Alex stared at the message.
The worst part was that some of it was true.
Samuel had needed daily help.
Richard had provided some.
Alex had sent birthday gifts and called on Sundays.
Telephone love was still love.
It was not caregiving.
Then another message arrived.
Ask your mother who paid Dad’s property taxes the last four years.
Alex walked into the kitchen where Helen sat sorting funeral cards.
“Who paid Grandpa’s property taxes?”
She froze.
“Richard.”
“With what money?”
Helen stared at him.
Then whispered:
“Dad’s.”
The caregiving story and the billing story were beginning to separate.
May you like
Someone had done real work.
Someone had also been taking credit twice.
