“I read all these contracts three times last night, and I can assure you, unless there’s a typo, I’m not missing anything. Something is up with your bougie dad.”
“Three times?” A smile budded on his lips as he merged onto the freeway, keeping his gaze locked forward. “Sounds like you have an exciting life.”
“I had a very enjoyable evening.” Biting my tongue, I counted to ten. There was no way I was going to let him get to me. I lowered my gaze to the papers on my lap, pretending to read them again. I wasn’t wrong about this. It was clear in the documentation. The more I thought about what could really be happening, and added to what I already suspected about Jonathan Fox, I was starting to think Jonathan was running a scam. One where he took out extra loan money to fund his extravagant lifestyle. I shifted my feet, trying to get comfortable even though I had ample leg room. It was the tension in the air that's making my anxiety pique.
As much as I hated Graham, some small part of me didn’t want to see him get wrapped up in his father’s illegal shenanigans. He’d had enough bad things happen to him that weren’t his fault. He clearly had some rose-colored glasses on about who his dad really was, and I knew it would be pointless to try to convince him otherwise.
We hardly spoke as he drove to the airport and we boarded a small private jet, which took us right to Naples and the private car waiting for us. When we finally pulled into the condo complex, I did a double take. I wouldn’t call it a ghetto by any means, but even in this zip code, there was no way theseoutdated condos would sell for a million each. On the end of a dead-end street, the building butted up against an industrial complex. Each unit desperately needed paint, landscaping, and a good old-fashioned scrub. With the weeds nearly waist high, they appeared abandoned. “Are you sure this is the right place?” I riffled through my papers again, checking the address. “Maybe there are two Duplin Streets, and we’re on the wrong one?”
“This is the address. I’ll admit it’s not what I expected from the listing summary.” He parked in the driveway and killed the engine. “We’re going to do a fast walk through, and then head to the bank.”
“Do we need hazmat suits?” I opened the car door and hopped out, warily eyeing the industrial complex next door. I couldn’t tell what they were building, but it was noisy, not at all an inviting residential area. I refused to crack a smile as we paced to the front door together. We were not surprised when the door wasn’t even locked, and we pushed it wide open with no key.
“Something tells me this isn’t good.” Ominous vibes trickled up my spine. I didn’t doubt the single hair on my chin would be standing straight out if I hadn’t diligently plucked it off this morning just as I had done every morning since turning thirty-five.
“Ah, it’s probably some neighborhood kids messing around.” Although he seemed to brush off the vandalism, he slowly strode forward. We entered the kitchen, a dingy eggshell-colored room missing all its appliances. The once white cabinets were mucked up with so much dirt, there was no way you could even clean them without straight bleach. A roach family of four crawled in an almost-perfect line on the floor. I shuddered.
“No wonder they took out money for a kitchen remodel. I wouldn’t make mud pies here.” I stuffed my hands in my pant pockets to minimize the risk of accidentally touching something.
“It didn’t say how long this place sat empty. Sometimes dust accumulates.”
“Dust?” I snorted, checking the clearing above my head as we passed through the door to the hall. There was no way I was getting caught in a spider web.
“From the summary, the kitchen is the worst of this place. The rest shouldn’t be so bad—” His voice dropped off as we both saw the living room at the same time. Other than a single couch against the wall, the wood floor was covered with literal trash, empty bottles and soured milk containers. My hand fled to my mouth as I identified the sight—and smell—of dirty diapers. The large window was cracked, and it must have leaked when it rained, as evidenced by the puddle of water on the floor. And the crowning feature—a massive mold culture was growing in and around the leak.
“I’m out of here.” I backed into the kitchen, not needing to see any more of the house. “I don’t think it’s safe to be here without a mask,” I hollered as Graham took another minute to look inside both bedrooms down the hall.
His lips were sealed tight when he circled back. “I’ve seen enough.”
“I can’t get over the purchase price of this unit.” I was relieved we were leaving. “You’d have to pay me to take this out of your hands. I wonder if Jonathan plans to tear down these condos to have them rezoned. Maybe that industrial complex next door wanted to buy them. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Haven’t you figured out by now that nothing in my life makes sense?” His glare was stone cold, tipping me off that he now believed as I did—that Jonathan was running some sort of scam.
“What are we going to do?” I climbed back in the car and buckled in, relieved to close my car door, adding a barrier between this place and me. “I can’t go to that loan closing and pretend everything’s okay. It doesn’t make sense that the bankwould even issue this loan. How did the assessment come in at a million dollars? I know this is Naples, but mold in the middle of the living room? You can bet there’s more damage you can’t see.”
“Unless they are all in on it.” Graham stared out the windshield, studying the property.
“Who’s all in on it?”
“Everyone. His banker buddies. The appraiser. They must all be taking their cut.”
“I can’t believe nobody has caught on to this before.”
“He usually doesn’t let anyone from the Tampa office see anything other than the papers and legal work. He scouts the properties himself. Had his health been better, he would have been here.”
“Yeah, but he has to know you won’t put up with this.”
“Does he?” Graham’s expression froze. “Maybe he’s testing me? He did offer me a cut of the deal. I didn’t know it was shady at the time. I thought he had found a foreclosure that was undervalued.”
“You know…” I twisted in my seat, pulling out my laptop from the bag where I had stuffed it in the backseat. “Let me look at something. I’ve been reviewing these contracts for weeks. Whenever he agrees to purchase something, there’s always extra loan money to improve it. I never saw any of the conditions before, but nothing adds up that the bank would allow a million-dollar loan on that petri dish.” I opened the first set of documents, scrolling to show Graham. Neither of us spoke as I flipped through the files. Every single one had a second mortgage attached to the principal mortgage. “I picked up on this right away, but I assumed he was buying fixer-uppers that were actually fixable. How long have you worked for Jonathan?”
“Almost ten years.” He started the car, backed out of the drive, and we fell into silence as we drove back the way we’d come.
“Are we going to the bank?” After a few minutes of traveling, and I had gathered we were headed back to the interstate toward the airport.
“I’ll say something came up.”
“Do you think he’s setting you up?”
