Rise (Rise & Fall Duet #1) - Grahame Claire Page 0,42
due diligence.”
“Hard copies or electronic?”
“Both if you have it,” Whitley answered.
“I’ll begin sending immediately.” It could take weeks to gather the information despite my meticulous records. We did thousands of transactions a year. Having to dig back so long ago would be difficult.
“I’d start with your apartment,” Zegas said. “Unless you’ve purchased something more valuable.”
Hollingsworth Properties did high-dollar transactions on a regular basis. But that apartment was personal to me. Maybe it didn’t have the homey feel of Lexie and Eric’s place, but it was mine.
“What are the ramifications? Assuming the worst that there are liens against the titles.”
I understood the inner workings of property law. A situation such as this—not that I was aware of one on this scale—did not usually bode well for the person in my position. Potentially there could be a statute of limitations. Or a desperate rationale might be that I’d lived in the apartment for over a decade, therefore I was privy to squatter’s rights.
“I’m going to bring in a friend of mine who specializes in real estate law,” Whitley said. “Before we make any presumptions, he may have some insight. We need Dixon on this. Start sending those records, and we’ll meet tomorrow afternoon.”
I nodded and stood, shaking hands with both men. “I’ll be in touch.”
How the hell had this happened?
I was meticulous. Overly thorough. And I’d trusted the wrong people to do what they were supposed to do.
I breathed in the cool city evening air, but it did nothing to still my racing mind.
Please don’t let that city attorney contact my father.
Who was I fooling? Nothing escaped his knowledge.
As much as I needed Beau’s expertise, I couldn’t burden her with this. I hoped I’d have this resolved before either of them was aware a problem had occurred.
What benefit did Titan Title have by not doing as promised? I couldn’t wrap my mind around offering a service and not following through.
This was beyond unscrupulous.
And if they did what it appeared they had, I would make certain they never saw the outside of a jail cell again.
I pushed into an uncrowded coffee house.
“I’ll have coffee. Black.” I pulled out my wallet and inserted my credit card in the machine.
“Can you try again, sir?” the cashier asked. “It didn’t go through.”
I tried again.
He shook his head. “Do you have another card?”
I stuffed the black card back into its slot, irritated I’d have to make an unnecessary call to the credit card company.
The machine beeped when I inserted a different card.
“Sorry, man. That one didn’t go through either.”
“Is something wrong with your processor?” I snapped.
“That lady over there had no problem with her card.”
I tried one more.
When it too was declined, I slammed cash on the counter and stalked a few paces away to wait.
“Sir, you forgot your change.”
“Keep it.”
I dialed the number on the back of the card I used most and was immediately connected to a concierge.
“Good evening, Mr. Hollingsworth. This is Vincent. How may I help you, sir?” the pleasant voice asked.
“You could stop declining my cards,” I growled.
“Oh no. Let me see what’s going on.” The clack clack clack of a keyboard sounded in my ear.
“Here’s your coffee.”
I grabbed it and burst out the door onto the sidewalk. The concierge typing wasn’t muffled by the city noise. It only ramped up my impatience.
“Mr. Hollingsworth. I’m sorry, sir, but your accounts have been frozen.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lexie
“Thank you, Eric and Lexie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Garrison held open the door to his shop for us. We’d dropped off a second load of dog food for the day after an emergency call around lunchtime that he had sold out of what we’d brought that morning.
He was quickly becoming our biggest customer.
“Let us know if we need to pare down your order since we brought extra this afternoon.” It was a stupid thing for a businesswoman to say, but profit wasn’t everything. I didn’t want to sell Garrison product he didn’t need.
“The way this is selling, we’ll need to double it.”
I gulped. We were going to need a bigger kitchen. And more hours in the day.
If you dictated the schedule, you could streamline the process.
Lincoln’s words came back as a big fat I-told-you-so to kick me in the pants. I shoved them out of my head and smiled.
“Just text me.”
“Why? You don’t answer your phone.”
My skin crawled. I didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to face the man I hadn’t seen in seven years.
“Or does she answer yours?” The voice was nasty, accusatory.
Garrison appeared taken aback.
“Bitch probably