Her name was Odessa. She had left the business two years earlier after going nearly a month without wages, and she had saved copies of invoices she’d been instructed to inflate for private family events.

One of them covered my anniversary dinner. Part of the money I paid had been redirected instead of spent on the food and services listed. Compared with the sixty thousand dollars and the attempted transfer of our home, the amount was small.

But it confirmed what I had begun to understand: almost none of the family’s supposed warmth toward me had been genuine. During her second conversation with Barnaby, Odessa added that she had seen Willamina use the same billing method with at least one other customer — a bride whose final invoice did not match what the company actually provided.

That never became a direct part of my case. Still, it confirmed that Willamina’s behavior was not one desperate mistake. It was how the family operated whenever they believed no one outside their circle was watching closely.

Chapter 8 — What the Two Years Settled

The next two years passed more slowly than I wished and, in some ways, faster than I feared. Barnaby referred the suspected forged deed to the financial-crimes division of the district attorney’s office.

The county recorder cooperated fully, supplying internal documentation proving the filing had been stopped before the transfer could complete.