Chapter 3 - The Sheriff’s Arrival
The sound of a siren wailing in the distance wasn’t the distant municipal patrol Thomas had expected. It was a pair of county sheriff’s cruisers, their light bars painting the snow-covered street in violent flashes of red and blue as they swung into the driveway, blocking Derek’s silver sedan in.
Derek staggered back against the front door, his hands trembling violently.
“You called the cops?” Derek choked out, staring at Thomas as if he were looking at a demon. “You actually called the cops over a domestic property dispute? This is civil court stuff! You can’t just—!”
“It’s not civil when you forge a notary signature while the victim is incapacitated under medical observation,” Thomas said coldly. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. “That crosses the line from a property dispute into felony grand larceny and identity fraud.”
Two deputies stepped out of the leading cruiser, their heavy boots crunching loudly on the frozen asphalt. The lead officer, a weathered sergeant with graying temples named Miller, strode straight up the driveway with his hand resting near his duty belt.
“Morning, Mr. Beckett,” Sergeant Miller said, nodding respectfully to Thomas before turning his cold, professional gaze toward Derek and Lydia. “We received an urgent dispatch from the district attorney’s special investigations division regarding a fraudulent conveyance and extortion complaint involving this address.”
“Sergeant, you’ve got it all wrong!” Lydia shrieked, her voice pitching up into an ear-piercing screech as she rushed forward, waving her hands. “This is a domestic setup! That old man is trying to steal my son’s home! Sarah signed everything over voluntarily! We have the papers right inside!”
“Ma’am, step back from the edge of the porch,” Sergeant Miller ordered, his hand shifting slightly. He looked at Derek. “Are you Derek Vance?”
“I... yes,” Derek swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. “Look, my lawyer—Marcus Vance, he’s a registered notary—he drew up the administrative proxy because my wife was unstable. We have rights—!”
“Mr. Marcus Vance is currently being interviewed by investigators at the 4th Precinct regarding three separate fraudulent property transfers executed this quarter,” Miller interrupted smoothly, pulling a folded set of documents from his tactical vest. “And an emergency judge just signed an ex parte injunction invalidating any conveyance of title associated with 442 North Pine executed after December 1st due to probable cause of coercion and medical fraud.”
Miller gestured to the second deputy, who stepped past Derek, pulled a set of master keys and a heavy metal lockbox from his tactical pouch, and walked straight to the front door.
“Mr. Vance, step away from the threshold,” Miller commanded.
“You can’t do this!” Derek yelled, his voice cracking with panic as the deputy firmly shoved him aside and stepped into the doorway. “That’s my house! I have my clothes in there! My TV! My—!”
“Your belongings are currently being cataloged for removal under court supervision,” Miller said. He turned to Thomas. “Mr. Beckett, is Mrs. Vance in your vehicle down the street?”
“She is,” Thomas replied.
“Tell her she can come home. The locks have already been re-keyed back to the original master cylinder by court order. Nobody is touching her property again.”
Lydia let out a blood-curdling howl of absolute fury, lunging toward Thomas with her fingernails clawing the air. “You ruined us! You filthy, arrogant—!”
Sergeant Miller intercepted her with practiced ease, stepping between her and Thomas, gently but firmly pushing her back against the railing. “Ma’am, one more move toward Mr. Beckett and you’ll be joining your son in the back of my cruiser for obstruction of justice.”
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Derek slumped against the doorframe, defeated, watching his grand scheme dissolve into police tape and snow.
Thomas didn't spare them another glance. He turned his back on the weeping mother and her disgraced son, picked up Sarah’s framed photograph from the snowbank, brushed the ice off the glass with his gloved thumb, and began walking back toward his truck.
