Chapter 9 - Eviction Day
By two o’clock that afternoon, I arrived back at the Oakridge Estates house.
The scene out front was a circus.
Two sheriff’s deputies stood by the driveway, watching over a team of bonded movers who were carrying boxes of clothes, golf clubs, and designer furniture out onto the front lawn. Across the cul-de-sac, several neighbors stood behind their manicured hedges, filming the entire spectacle on their smartphones.
Patricia was sitting on the hood of her white Mercedes, screaming at the deputies.
“You have no right! This is my son’s property! I am a pillar of this community! Do you know who I am?”
“Ma'am, step off the vehicle,” one deputy said calmly. “The repossession flatbed is en route. The lease on this car was terminated this morning by the primary guarantor.”
Patricia turned and saw my black Town Car pull up to the curb. She launched herself off the Mercedes and sprinted toward me, her face contorted with pure, unadulterated hatred.
“You demonic little tramp!” she shrieked, clawing at the air. “You ruined everything! Daniel’s company is shut down! The bank locked my condo! Look at what you’ve done to our family!”
The deputy intercepted her instantly, grabbing her by the arms and twisting her against the side of the police cruiser. “Hands on the car, ma’am! Move again and you’re being charged with resisting and battery!”
“Let me go!” Patricia sobbed, the high-society mask shattering into a pathetic mess of smudged mascara and sweat. “Emily, tell them! Tell them to stop! I’m Daniel’s mother! You can’t leave me on the street!”
I stepped out of the car, closed the door behind me, and walked over to where she was pinned against the cruiser.
“You told me yesterday that I owed you everything,” I said softly, looking straight into her wild, terrified eyes. “You told me that six years of paying your bills wasn't enough. You wanted my dignity, too. Well, Patricia... the bill has finally come due. Every penny Daniel embezzled that ended up in your personal accounts is classified as proceeds of fraud. The government will be seizing your condo, your jewelry, and whatever cash you have left.”
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“Please,” Patricia gasped, her knees giving out until the deputy had to physically hold her up. “Please, Emily. I’m an old woman. Where am I supposed to go?”
“Go wherever fifteen hundred dollars a month can get you,” I said quietly. “Because that’s the exact amount you thought was trivial. Let’s see how far it takes you on your own.”
