Chapter 23 - The Condition of Maple Street
The condition was outlined in paragraph four of the codicil, written in dense, formal legal jargon that took three separate readings to fully comprehend. To take possession of the property—which was currently valued at nearly six hundred thousand dollars, free and clear of any mortgages—Frank had to occupy the house as his primary residence for a period of no less than ninety consecutive days, starting on the first of June. If he failed, refused, or abandoned the property for even a single night during that period, the house would automatically revert to the Ohio Historical Society, and a secondary cash trust of one hundred thousand dollars would be instantly transferred to Arthur without recourse. "It’s a trap," I said instantly, pacing the narrow strip of floor between our stove and our refrigerator. "It’s her final, posthumous joke. She knows you can’t stand being in that town, she knows Arthur is going to contest it, and she’s trying to drag us back into the mud just to watch us squirm from the other side." Frank was sitting at the table, staring down at the red thumbprint on the back of the inner envelope. He traced the ridges of the ink with the tip of his finger, his face completely devoid of expression. "It’s not just a joke, Sarah," he said quietly. "It’s an eviction notice for Arthur." That caught my attention. I stopped pacing and looked at him. "What do you mean?" "Arthur has been living in that house for the last three years since the old man died," Frank explained, his eyes rising to meet mine. "He hasn't paid rent, he hasn't paid the property taxes—he’s been living off the estate's maintenance fund while he tries to run for county commissioner. If we move in for ninety days, Arthur has to pack his bags and get out. Not in six months. Immediately." I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "And you think Arthur is just going to hand over the keys and say, 'Welcome home, little brother'? Have you forgotten who we are dealing with? Arthur is probably already on the phone with his cronies at the courthouse trying to find a judge who will declare this codicil null and void due to 'undue influence' while she was on her deathbed." "Let him try," Frank said, and for the first time in weeks, I saw a flash of that cold, hard steel that had made him survive growing up under Helen’s thumb. He stood up, grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door, and tossed the keys to our battered sedan into the air. "Get your coat, Sarah. We’re going to Mason. It’s time to pay my brother a visit."
