Chapter 13 - Candace Came Without Her Father
Candace arrived at Elise's office wearing a gray coat I had never seen.
No expensive handbag. No Stuart in the hallway. She carried a grocery sack with a split handle.
“I heard about Sayer,” she said.
Elise invited her to sit and reminded her that she could have her own attorney present before discussing anything affecting her interests.
Candace nodded.
“I already called mine. She said to bring you this and stop improvising.”
From the sack, she produced a thin folder.
Inside were printed emails from the period when she and Trey had tried to arrange the company sale behind my back.
We had reviewed many messages during the original investigation. These were different: correspondence from Stuart's personal account, sent to Candace while she was helping him organize records after moving home.
“Why weren't these turned over before?” Elise asked.
“I didn't have them. They were in boxes at my mother's storage unit. She asked me to clear it last week.”
“Who owns the boxes?”
“My mother. She told me I could take the papers concerning me. I photographed the labels.”
Elise noted the explanation and asked her to preserve everything exactly as found.
I read the first page.
Stuart had written to a property consultant named Glenn Rusk about Finch's yard.
The old garden paperwork may be useful if the son can't deliver ownership.
My hands went cold.
There it was: a second route planned while they were still trying the first.
Candace watched me read.
“I didn't see this message until yesterday.”
I looked up.
“Did you know your father was pursuing the land?”
“I knew he thought it had development value. I didn't know he had these records.”
Elise asked careful questions. Dates. Devices. Access. Candace answered some and admitted she couldn't answer others.
That mattered more than confidence would have.
When the meeting ended, she stood but didn't reach for the folder.
“There's something else.”
I waited.
“Lucy asked whether people can make Grandpa leave his home.”
“This claim concerns the yard.”
“I told her that. She said her grandmother mentioned losing everything.”
The room became very still.
“Which grandmother?”
“My mother.”
I thought of Connie gathering coats after the ruined Thanksgiving, her face tight with the inconvenience of my refusal.
“Keep Lucy away from these conversations.”
“I am trying.”
“Try harder.”
Candace flinched. Then she nodded.
“You're right.”
It was the first time she had said that without attaching a defense.
Outside, she stopped beside my truck.
“My father says this is your fault. That you ruined Trey and then made everyone pay.”
“What do you say?”
Her wedding ring was gone. I noticed the pale band of skin before I noticed that she wasn't watching my face for a favorable response. She seemed to be listening to herself instead.
She stared at the wet pavement.
“I say Trey did what he did. I did what I did. And my father keeps finding ways to make himself the injured person.”
I opened the truck door.
“That's a useful beginning.”
“Does it ever become more?”
I knew what she wanted: a path back to the table, a sentence that made delivering a folder equal forgiveness.
“I don't know yet.”
She accepted that answer with visible effort.
That night, Lucy called to ask whether the tomato beds were safe.
“Perfectly safe,” I said.
“Because I saved seeds.”
“For next spring?”
“For all the springs.”
Afterward, I sat with those words.
Children planned in seasons because they trusted adults to keep the ground beneath them.
At nine, Elise called.
She had traced Glenn Rusk's current business address.
It belonged to Sayer Land Holdings.
“And Walter,” she added, “the transfer documents show Stuart was paid for introducing this claim.”
“How much?”
She told me.
Less than he had once spent on a boat.
I looked toward Ruth's photograph.
May you like
He had found another way to sell something that wasn't his.
For a while, I stayed beside the dark window. Across the yard, the barn light caught the empty garden beds. Ruth had wanted neighbors to share vegetables. Stuart had found a way to harvest the paperwork. Tomorrow, I would help Elise prove which intention had actually reached a signed agreement.
