Court Papers in the Locked Drawer of a Community Doctor
My father had bought the land forty years ago for a fraction of that, and the local tax assessment had always remained forty thousand. David had told me the developer’s offer of seventy thousand was a generous deal, urging me to sign before the market cooled.
Below the appraisal was a packet of printed emails between David and George, the developer. The header on the top message showed it was sent from George at Oak Creek Land Development.
“We are prepared to move quickly once the title is cleared,” the message read. “The fifty-thousand-dollar consulting fee will be wired to your personal account at Great Lakes National Bank immediately upon completion of the sale.”
I turned the page and found another email from June fourteenth, the exact day David had logged in his diary that I had appeared confused at the grocery store.
“My wife is resisting the sale,” David had written to George. “I am taking steps to resolve her opposition legally.”
The printout of the developer’s contract trembling in my fingers, the numbers blurring against the page.
