Court Papers in the Locked Drawer of a Community Doctor
Karen took the phone, connected it to her computer with a black cable, and watched as the files began to transfer. The progress bar on her monitor filled slowly, the blue light reflecting in her glasses.
“I have the property assessment from the county,” Karen said, tapping a document inside one of the binders. “The land registry shows George’s development company has already secured the rights to the three lots adjacent to your father’s cabin. Your land is the only piece holding up their access road.”
“And the value?” I asked.
“Four hundred thousand dollars,” Karen said, her finger tracing the red stamp on the official assessment. “If David can sell it without your consent, his developer friend will clear the title by Wednesday. The five-figure kickback will be wired to his personal account in Chicago.”
The printer began to hum, spitting out the sharp white sheets of the photographed diary pages. Karen gathered them as they fell into the tray, holes punching into the paper with a heavy, rhythmic thud. She slid the sheets into the plastic sleeves of the binders, organizing them behind color-coded tabs.
