I thought it made an excellent place to live.
We were having difficulty reconciling those opinions.
“Frank can’t sell property he doesn’t own,” Graham said.
“He knows that.”
“Then why the deed?”
“Because somebody thinks they can make ownership look different long enough to get paid.”
Graham examined the signature again.
“Who notarized this?”
I pointed to the stamp.
He frowned.
“I know that name. She retired last year.”
My stomach tightened.
He took out his phone and photographed the document.
Then he stopped.
“Actually, don’t let me handle the originals. You need an attorney.”
“I have one.”
“Good.”
I hadn’t mentioned the forged deed to my lawyer yet because I’d received it only that morning.
The title company had contacted me to verify the proposed transfer.
I’d told the woman on the phone that I hadn’t authorized anything.
Her tone had changed immediately.
