Seventy-three.
Short gray hair.
Thin shoulders beneath a blue cardigan.
She looked behind her before asking:
“Can I come in?”
I stepped aside.
We sat at my father’s kitchen table.
Grace looked around.
“Nothing changed.”
“Dad didn’t like replacing things that still worked.”
“Walter was the same.”
She reached into her purse.
Pulled out a scratched flash drive.
Placed it between us.
“I think you need this.”
“What is it?”
“Walter’s files.”
I stared at it.
“HOA files?”
“Some.”
Her fingers rested beside the drive.
“Before he died, Walter believed Patricia was doing something wrong with the lake project.”
“How wrong?”
“He never said exactly.”
“He was afraid to accuse anyone before he could prove it.”
That sounded like the Walter I remembered.
Grace continued.
“He copied emails.”
“Budgets.”
“Invoices.”
“Construction proposals.”
“He told me if anything ever happened to him, I should keep them.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Did Patricia know?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked toward the window.
The marina lights reflected across the water.
“Walter opposed the project.”
“He told the board the association didn’t own the shoreline.”
“What happened?”
“He stopped receiving some board materials.”
“Then Patricia said he was confused because of his health.”
“Was he?”
Grace looked at me sharply.
“No.”
Two years of grief sat inside that single word.
I plugged the drive into an old laptop that had never touched my business network.
A folder appeared.
PROJECT HARBOR.
Inside were dozens of files.
Budget drafts.
Emails.
Invoices.
Contractor proposals.
Architectural drawings.
Board minutes.
Walter had organized everything by date.
The project budget began around $480,000.
Then expanded.
Dock.
Bridge.
Club villa.
Utilities.
Landscaping.
Security.
Shoreline improvements.
Final projected expenditures approached two million dollars.
Some costs came from special assessments.
Some from reserve accounts.
Others were disguised under broader categories.
One spreadsheet showed payments to companies I had never heard of.
Another showed marina membership revenue being used to offset construction costs before the board had formally adopted a marina program.
Then I found an email from Walter.
Patricia,
Until the Mercer ownership question is resolved, no permanent lakeshore construction should proceed. The existing easement does not appear to authorize these improvements.
Her response came six hours later.
Walter,
Counsel has already reviewed the issue. Please stop creating unnecessary obstacles to an approved community project.
I searched for the legal opinion she referenced.
There was none.
At 2:14 in the morning, I found the first copy of the lake access agreement.
Two pages.
Dated almost exactly two years earlier.
It purported to grant Silver Pines expansive rights to operate docks, marina facilities, recreational buildings, and motorized boating access.
At the bottom sat my father’s signature.
Silas Mercer.