Chapter 19 - The Notary’s Logbook
I walked right up to the heavy steel mesh of the gate, sliding Sanford's original 2002 forfeiture agreement through the bars directly into Deputy Clint Miller's hands.
Pendelton scrambled out of his car, his coat flapping open in the wind. "Don't look at that, Clint! That's unverified private correspondence! Our injunction is already entered into the court docket!"
"It's not unverified, Arthur," I said, cold fury sharpening every syllable. "It carries the state seal of the Barry County Court from twenty-two years ago. And it includes the personal promissory notes that prove Raymond Vance used forged powers of attorney to borrow two hundred thousand dollars from the Hastings Savings Bank."
Clint Miller opened the folder. He wasn't a corrupt man, just a tired small-town officer caught in a family war. As he read the certified notary stamps and Sanford’s clear, bold signature, his jaw hardened.
"Raymond," Clint said slowly, turning his head toward the Buick. "Is this your signature acknowledging the forfeiture of all timber rights in the Pigeon River basin?"
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"That's forty years of Vance family sweat!" my father roared, throwing open his car door and storming toward the gate, his face flushed purple with rage. "I planted those oaks! I cleared that ridge! She’s my daughter! Everything she has belongs to me by right of blood! A father has a right to take what his family built!"
"You didn't plant a single seed on this river, Ray," Ellis said, stepping forward until he stood inches from my father's face, separated only by the wire fence. "You spent thirty years stealing from an old man who couldn't defend himself. But you aren't fighting Sanford anymore."
