Chapter 3 - The Ghost at the Door
The knock was not polite. It was three heavy, measured raps that reverberated through the hollow foyer.
Claire closed the laptop lid without snapping it, slipped the flash drives into her pocket, and walked deliberately toward the front hall. Her heart hammered, but her exterior was a mask of marble. Through the frosted side-glass of the entryway, she saw the silhouette of a tall man in a tailored charcoal overcoat.
She pulled the door open, keeping the security latch engaged. ""Can I help you?""
The man didn't look like a process server or a delivery driver. He had silvering hair, sharp amber eyes, and an umbrella tucked beneath one arm despite the clear sky.
""Mrs. Claire Sterling?"" he asked. His tone was professional, devoid of inflection. ""My name is Marcus Ward. I represent Vantage Crest Holdings. I was instructed to hand-deliver this to your husband prior to his departure, but his flight manifest confirms he boarded forty minutes ago.""
""He's out of the country,"" Claire replied coolly. ""Leave it in the mailbox.""
""I cannot do that,"" Marcus Ward said softly. He reached into his coat and produced a thick, wax-sealed courier packet. ""This is a notice of default and immediate asset repossession on the property at 14 Hillcrest Lane. Your husband pledged this deed as personal collateral for an unsecured mezzanine loan forty-five days ago.""
Claire felt a cold sensation slide down her spine. The house had been purchased with her late father’s estate distribution. Mark had assured her he only handled the property tax filings and standard homeowner insurance renewals.
""This home is titled under a joint survivorship trust,"" Claire said, her voice dropping an octave. ""He cannot pledge it unilaterally.""
Marcus Ward tilted his head, regarding her with something resembling pity. ""He can if the trust was amended six weeks ago with your notarized signature, Mrs. Sterling.""
May you like
A chill washed over Claire’s skin. She had never signed any amendment.
Marcus held the envelope toward the gap in the door. ""You have seventy-two hours before the foreclosure marshal arrives. Unless, of course, you can produce the twelve million dollars he borrowed.""
