The lead detective, a grim-faced woman with tired, intelligent eyes named Detective Evans, walked past David and me, her expression unreadable. She fixed her unwavering gaze on Ben. “Mr. Benjamin Miller, we have a warrant for your arrest.”
Ben scoffed, a short, barking laugh of disbelief. “Arrest? For what? This is a civil dispute! A family matter! She has no right to accuse me of anything! I have the deed! It’s a matter of public record!”
“We are investigating you for grand larceny, forgery, and felony deed fraud,” Detective Evans cut him off, her voice flat and devoid of emotion as she produced a pristine, signed arrest warrant. “We have evidence, provided by the District Attorney’s office, that the transfer of this property into your name was based on a forged document and the fraudulent use of a power of attorney subsequent to the grantor’s death. You are under arrest.”
5. The Owner and The Trespasser
Ben’s face went white. The color drained from his face, leaving a pasty, grayish pallor. His arrogance crumbled like a sandcastle in a tide, replaced by a raw, desperate panic. He looked wildly between the detectives and David, his mind scrambling for a foothold. “David! What are you doing? I’m your cousin! You can’t let them do this! We’ll settle this out of court! It’s a misunderstanding! She’s confused!”
David, calm and implacable, the very picture of legal authority, stepped forward. He was holding the certified, ironclad trust papers. “You’re right, Ben. We’re family. And your legal argument is, in a way, correct: you can’t be arrested for trespassing on your own property.”
David held up the trust document for the detectives, and for Ben, to see, its official seal gleaming in the cold morning light. “However, the quitclaim deed you filed is a forgery, based on a Power of Attorney that was null and void upon your grandmother’s death. More importantly, it’s irrelevant. The property legally, and irrevocably, belongs to my client, Mrs. Elaine Miller, who acquired it via an irrevocable living trust five years ago. This deed,” he said, tapping the paper with a final, damning finality, “is merely Exhibit A in the state’s case against you for felony fraud.”
He looked directly at Ben, his voice a low, hard, and utterly unforgiving pronouncement of judgment. “And since my client, the lawful owner of this home, has asked you to leave, and you have refused and, in fact, changed the locks, you are now, officially, trespassing. You have committed a felony. And you are under arrest on my client’s property.”
6. The New, Quiet Beginning
