Chapter 5 - The Hand of the Law
Daniel stepped back instinctively, his throat working convulsively as his eyes darted between the deputies' badges and the locksmith's drills.
"Mr. Sterling," Daniel stammered, trying to muster a shred of his old corporate bravado. "This is private property. My wife is not home, and you have no business bringing law enforcement to our front porch."
Marcus Sterling did not step inside. He remained on the threshold, holding a leather-bound legal binder open in his left hand, his expression as warm as an ice shelf in the North Atlantic.
"Mr. Holloway," Marcus announced, his baritone voice carrying clearly down the quiet, tree-lined suburban street. "This property is the sole, unencumbered asset of Carter Heritage Properties LLC. The residential lease for occupant Patricia Holloway was formally terminated at nine o'clock this morning following the expiration of the statutory cure period."
Patricia came scurrying into the foyer, her dressing gown flapping around her slippers, her face twisted in shrill fury.
"Get off my porch!" Patricia screamed at the deputies. "I am a sixty-six-year-old widow! You cannot throw me out of my own son's house! Daniel, call our lawyer!"
"You don't have a lawyer, Mrs. Holloway," Marcus countered smoothly, looking at her over the rim of his glasses. "Because the retainer check you issued to Miller & Associates yesterday afternoon bounced due to a lack of authorized funds."
Patricia’s breath hitched in her throat, her face draining of every drop of color.
"The court has issued a writ of immediate possession," the lead deputy stated, stepping past Daniel into the foyer. "You have precisely forty-five minutes to gather your medication, your personal clothing, and your immediate personal effects. At twelve o'clock sharp, the locks will be permanently changed, and any remaining items will be inventoried and moved to a commercial storage depot at your expense."
"No!" Patricia wept, grabbing Daniel’s arm with desperate, clawing fingers. "Daniel, do something! Call Evelyn! Tell her I'll apologize! Tell her she can come home!"
Daniel pulled his phone from his pocket again, his hands shaking so violently he dropped it onto the Persian runner. He scooped it up, dialing my number once more, but the line remained cold, dead, and unreachable.
"She isn't answering, Mom," Daniel whispered, the realization finally crashing through his thick skull that the woman he had treated like an appliance had permanently unhitched herself from his cart.
"Mr. Holloway," Marcus added, pulling a second white envelope from his pocket and placing it squarely against Daniel’s chest. "You have been formally served with a petition for dissolution of marriage, an emergency domestic exclusion order, and a notice of intent to seek full criminal restitution for ninety-two thousand dollars in converted corporate assets."
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Daniel stared down at the envelope as if it were a live grenade.
"And as for the vehicle in the driveway," Marcus concluded, gesturing toward the sleek black Mercedes sedan parked beneath the porte-cochère, "the corporate lease has been terminated. The recovery flatbed is currently turning onto the boulevard."
