Then I looked at the envelope.
“What did he tell you the hundred thousand was for?”
Linda’s voice became defensive.
“A legal conversion.
Separate living quarters, another entrance, permits, plumbing work, electrical work and structural reinforcement.
He said the property value would increase.
He said the two of you approved it together.”
I looked at the raw drywall seam, the crooked baseboard and the doorframe that did not sit square against the floor.
There had been no plumbing work.
No new entrance.
No structural reinforcement that I could see.
“Did you give him the money?”
Linda did not answer.
That was answer enough.
“How much?”
Her eyes dropped.
“One hundred thousand.”
My stomach tightened.
She had not been handing me a contractor’s bill.
She had been demanding reimbursement for money she had already given her son.
“Open the envelope.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll tell the officers you tried to collect a six-figure debt using documents you refuse to show me.”
Linda hesitated.
Pride fought panic across her face.
Finally, she broke the seal.
Inside was a printed bank confirmation showing a transfer of $100,000 from Linda’s account to Mason’s.
Beneath it sat a typed page titled as a renovation reimbursement agreement.
It stated that I, as Mason’s spouse and co-owner, accepted responsibility for the full amount.
The signature line beneath my name was blank.
I held the page up.
“You expected me to sign this?”
“Mason said it was a formality.”
“He expected me to sign a document calling him my husband and co-owner of my house.”
Linda’s mouth tightened.
“He said the deed update was delayed.”
“The deed was never being updated.”
A drawer slammed behind the locked door.
I walked closer.
“Mason, come out.”
Silence.
“Mason, the police are coming.
Whatever you are trying to hide will still exist when they arrive.”
The handle moved slightly, then stopped.
Linda stepped toward the door.
“Open it,” she ordered.
“Tell her to leave first,” Mason said.
I almost laughed.
He was standing in a room carved out of my office, behind a lock installed without my permission, asking his mother to remove me from my own house.
Linda seemed to hear the absurdity too.
“This is her property,” she said slowly.
“You said it was our family property,” he replied.
“No.
You said that.”
The distinction changed something in her.
Until that moment, Linda had behaved as if the wall were evidence of her authority.
