Chapter 4 - The Sister-in-Law’s Demand
The knocking wasn't polite. It was a rapid, flat-palmed pounding against the front door that rattled the narrow sidelight windows.
"Claire! Open the door!" Kelsey’s voice shrilled through the wood. "I know you’re in there, your car is in the bay! Stop acting like a child and unlock it!"
I left the duffel in the bedroom closet, walked down the stairs, and stood two feet from the door. I didn't open it. I kept the heavy wood between us and spoke through the brass mail slot.
"Go away, Kelsey."
"You locked Owen out of his own house!" she yelled, leaning so close I could smell the sharp, chemical tang of her vape smoke drifting through the seams. "He called Mom from the parking lot by the interstate. He’s beside himself! Do you have any idea what you’re doing to this family?"
"I know what Owen tried to do to my credit," I replied coldly. "Tell your brother that if he comes near this door tonight, I will call the sheriff. And you have five seconds to step off my porch before I report you for trespassing."
"Your porch?" Kelsey let out a high, bitter laugh. "You think you’re so much better than us because your dead grandpa gave you a condo? You knew what Owen’s situation was! You knew we were in a transitional phase!"
My ears caught the phrase. *Transitional phase.*
"What situation, Kelsey?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm. "Why did Owen need a hundred and eighty-five thousand dollars wired to an offshore clearinghouse tonight?"
Silence hung on the other side of the wood. The aggressive pounding stopped.
"He told you?" she whispered, the arrogance momentarily slipping from her tone.
"I have the full underwriting file," I lied, testing the waters. "Every single line item."
"Then you know he didn't have a choice!" Kelsey hissed, stepping closer again. "The men from the private equity group in Raleigh gave him until Friday to cover the shortfall on the warehouse lease. If he doesn't post collateral, they’re suing for treble damages and filing a criminal complaint for fraudulent conversion! Mom’s house is already cross-collateralized. We had nowhere else to pull equity from! He was going to pay you back as soon as the litigation cleared!"
My stomach plummeted through the floorboards.
Owen hadn't just tried to borrow money for a smart investment. He had committed business fraud months before he proposed to me, and he had married me specifically because my townhouse was an unencumbered, debt-free asset sitting like a ripe fruit ready to be plucked by his creditors.
"He married me for a bailout," I said, the words tasting like ash.
"He loves you, Claire! But we’re a family! When one of us is in a hole, everyone digs!" Kelsey banged her fist once more against the door frame. "If you let them foreclose on the warehouse, Owen goes to prison! Is that what you want? To be a widow to a felon after four days of marriage?"
"He's not a widow's husband," I whispered. "He's just a criminal."
"Unlock the door, you selfish bitch!"
I turned on my heel, walked back into the kitchen, picked up my phone, and dialed 911.
"State your emergency," the dispatcher said.
"My name is Claire Morgan. There is an estranged family member attempting to force entry through my front door at 1442 Elmcrest Court. She is screaming threats, and I am armed."
I wasn't armed, but the dispatcher didn't need to know that.
"Units are en route, ma'am. Stay in a secure room."
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Outside, Kelsey must have heard me giving the address to dispatch, because within thirty seconds, I heard her high heels clicking frantically down the concrete walkway, followed by the violent roar of her Mercedes accelerating down the suburban street.
***
