The fluorescent lights of the escrow office hummed, casting a sterile glow over Maya Lin’s desk. She looked younger in person, her eyes wide behind stylish glasses, a stack of folders threatening to spill over her partition wall.
“Mr. Holbrook?” she asked, her voice a little shaky as I introduced myself. “I… I wasn’t expecting you.”
I tried to keep my tone even. “I’m looking into some recent property transfers. Specifically, the ones involving Holbrook Commercial Properties.”
Her knuckles were white where she gripped a pen. “Oh, yes. The Laurelwood and Vista Ridge parcels. They were high priority.”
“High priority by whose instruction?” I leaned slightly forward, not aggressively, but enough to convey the weight of the question.
She swallowed hard. “Mr. Holbrook, sir. Arthur Holbrook. He called directly several times. Said it was urgent. Family estate matters.”
“And the appraisals attached to those transfers?” I asked. “Did you review them closely?”
Maya frowned, a tiny crease appearing between her brows. “I mean, I scanned them. They were signed by Garrick Finch, a senior appraiser. Seemed perfectly legitimate. Everything was in order with the paperwork.”
Her words were a genuine admission, laced with a dawning horror. She hadn’t just processed the transaction; she’d processed it under Arthur’s direct, personal instruction. And she had absolutely no idea that the appraisal documents she’d so diligently attached were, in fact, entirely invalid. The realization hit her like a physical blow. Her face paled, and the pen slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the desk.
“Invalid?” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the fallen pen, as if the answer lay there. “What do you mean, invalid?”
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