Margot folded her arms.
“I think they want leverage.”
“What kind?”
“Make ownership unpleasant.”
“Create paper.”
“Create alleged debt.”
“Make you believe fighting costs more than selling.”
“Then somebody appears with an acquisition offer.”
Elias looked toward the window.
Below, Cedar Falls had hung lights around the town square.
Children crossed carrying shopping bags.
The world looked ordinary.
“They don’t want the ranch to match.”
Margot shook her head.
“They want the ranch available.”
Elias did not sue.
Margot told him not yet.
“Anger makes people move before the record is complete.”
“I’m not angry.”
Margot looked at him.
“You’re furious.”
Elias considered that.
“Probably.”
“You just don’t perform it.”
That evening he began documenting.
Every structure photographed.
All four sides.
Barn.
Equipment shed.
Woodshed.
Cabin.
House.
Fence lines.
Tractor.
Pickup.
Stored hay.
Firewood.
He photographed the condition of gates and locks.
Printed each image with dates.
Created a written timeline.
First citation.
Inspection notice.
Unauthorized entry.
Calls.
Second inspection.
Trespass warning.
Sheriff response.
Margot obtained body-camera footage from Ray Dalton’s call through proper records procedures.
The video captured Vivien claiming association inspection authority.
It also captured the county parcel confirmation.
Useful.
Then Elias visited neighbors.
The Whitakers came first.
Harold and June Whitaker had owned their fourteen acres for thirty-two years.
June brought out a Willow Crest letter from a drawer.
Fifteen hundred dollars.
“Landscaping incompatibility.”
Their crime was a metal shed visible from the road.
“Did you pay?”
Harold looked embarrassed.
“Five hundred.”
“They offered to settle if we signed an exterior-maintenance agreement.”
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“June read it.”
June snorted.
“My husband signs anything with a blank line.”
Elias smiled.
“Can Margot copy this?”
“Yes.”
Gideon Pike’s house came next.
Ten acres.
White farmhouse.
Wood smoke.
Three-legged dog named Biscuit.
Gideon was seventy-eight and had a memory sharpened by the conviction that everyone younger had forgotten how things really happened.
He poured coffee strong enough to dissolve caution.
Elias explained.
Gideon listened.
When Elias mentioned Vivien’s name, the old man’s expression changed.
“I remember her.”
“From Willow Crest?”
“Before.”
“Summit people.”
“They came here trying to buy.”
“Vivien came?”
“Twice.”
“What did she say?”
Gideon leaned back.
“One day she stood exactly there.”
He pointed to the kitchen doorway.
“Grant Holloway was with her.”
“Another fellow.”
“Asked about your place.”
Elias felt something tighten.