Chapter 7
Ted
Trying to concentrate on work proved futile. My mind kept drifting to my garden. It had been turned into a war zone, and the enemy was winning. The trap Amelia had set was empty this morning. If I hadn’t seen the video myself, I might’ve thought she’d fabricated the whole thing.
My mind wandered to the night I’d spent with Amelia trying to figure out who was stealing my veggies in the first place. She was attractive and funny when her words weren’t laced with acid. The intercom on my desk phone interrupted my thoughts.
“Mr. Cranston, your insurance company is on line one,” my assistant Melody said.
“Mr. Cranston,” the agent said. “I'm afraid Amelia McKenna's insurance company is refusing to pay for the full amount owed for the wreck. They claim the amount is over the type of damage and are only willing to pay 80% of the quoted price.” My blood instantly boiled, and my grip on the phone tightened.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath. “Thank you for letting me know. I'll handle it.” Hanging up, I immediately began working on a legal notice to Amelia, demanding payment for the remainder of the amount owed. It irked me that even when she wasn't present, Amelia still managed to ruffle my feathers.
I put the draft in a folder and set it aside. I needed to think about the possible ramifications if I did this. Did I really want to go about it this way? Things were just starting to soften between us. As much as she irritated me, I didn’t like the days when she wasn’t around.
“Mr. Cranston, Sam Finnegan is here to see you,” Crystal announced as she peeked through the doorway. Sam had recently moved back to town after his father had entered an assisted living home. He now owned the farmland adjacent to Blake and Sydney's Maple Tree Inn. “He says it's urgent.”
Her sudden appearance made me jump and knock my water over. In a flash, I jumped up trying to save all my court documents and files. “Shoot,” I mumbled. Crystal helped pick up the files and set them in a neat stack on my desk.
“Show him in,” I replied, drying up the last bit and straightening my suit. The last thing I needed was a potential new client to think I was incompetent. Even if I felt that way most of the time.
Crystal led Sam into my office. As he entered, his weathered face appeared more worn than usual. The rain outside had dampened his thinning hair, and his round glasses were dotted with droplets. He seemed anxious. What could be bothering him so much to come see me out of the blue?
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Sam said, his voice slow and deliberate as always.
“Of course. Oh, Crystal, before you go.” I stood and handed her the stack of forms I’d just dropped. “Get these down to the courthouse, please. They have to be filed by Friday.” She stepped out of the office with the stack, shutting the door behind her with a soft click.
“What can I help you with, Sam?”
“I've got a problem with the property lines between my farmland and the Maple Tree Inn. I need your help.”
A tinge of excitement crept through me at the prospect of going up against Blake in something I was comfortable with.
“What kind of problem?” I asked.
“That new barn and standalone cottages the owners recently built are on my side of the property line. When I put Dad in the home, I promised him I’d get the farmland back in tip-top shape, and I intend to keep my word. The new buildings are cutting into my carrot area. I’ve got to get them planted before the snow hits.”
Property law wasn’t my specialty, but I’d accepted a few cases here and there and won. “Alright, Sam. Let me look into it and see if we have a case,” I said. Unbeknownst to him, Sam had just handed me an opportunity for both redemption and revenge. And I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers.
“Thank you, sir,” he replied, relief evident in his voice. He handed over a manila envelope stuffed with documents detailing his property information. “Here's everything I've got. I hope it helps.”
“Ok great. I'll go through this information thoroughly and get back to you as soon as I can,” I promised. I shook his hand before he left.
Wasting no time, I dove into the information he’d handed over before delving into Vermont property and real estate laws.
As a lawyer, I had always been thorough and detail-oriented, but this case felt different—personal. Because it was. This was a chance to go up against my long-time rival. Blake had run off with the girl I’d loved more than a decade ago. Angela was the prettiest girl in town. I’d always had feelings for her, but then Blake had come in and swept her off her feet before I’d found the courage to ask her out. Four years later, he’d broken her heart, and she’d left town. I’d tried but never forgiven him for running her off.
“Could this be it?” I muttered to myself, my finger tracing a line of text on the yellowed legal form. There, hidden among the legalese, was a discrepancy in the property lines, hinting that Sam may indeed have a valid case. My heart rate quickened, excitement coursing through me. I shifted to the map that Sam had and cross-referenced it against the form.
Refusing to let the momentum wane, I delved deeper, scouring every available resource to uncover more evidence supporting Sam's ownership of the disputed land. With each new piece of information, my confidence grew, and I found myself grinning at the thought of presenting my findings to Blake. In 1987, the property lines were based on a new landmark that moved, and it did appear that Sam had a case. I called Sam immediately.
“Yeah, Sam, this is Ted Cranston. I’ll take your case. I’ll swing by with the standard agreement form.”
“Excellent,” Sam said. “Thank you, Mr. Cranston.”
“Listen, we need to do something first though. We need to hire a land surveyor to make sure that what I’ve found matches your claims and the property line claims. I know a guy.”
I ended the call after Sam agreed. I put in the call and arranged for the surveyor to meet me in a few hours on the property. What luck, he was usually booked a few weeks out.
The thrill of my potential victory was tempered by the weight of reality. What about Amelia? The truth of the matter was, despite my better judgment, I kind of liked her. Guilt nibbled at my conscience as I considered the consequences. This might push her away. But at the same time, I owed it to Sam to fight for his rights too. Maybe if I kept in mind that this was just business, maybe Amelia could see it too.
“Amelia's smart,” I murmured, speaking the thought aloud to quell my doubts. “She’ll understand.” She'd been through law school. She knew how these things worked. With newfound resolve, I stood up from my desk, tucking my carefully prepared documents into my briefcase.
“Are you leaving already?” Crystal asked with surprise, glancing up from her computer.
“Yep,” I replied with a nod. “I've got some business to attend to.”
“Good luck,” she said with a demure smile.
“Thanks, I'll need it,” I answered, offering her a small grin in return.
With every step I took toward the door, determination coursed through my veins. Confronting Blake would be no easy task, but I was armed with the truth. And that was a powerful weapon. As I stepped out of my office and into the crisp autumn air, my jaw set with resolve, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered, hoping I wasn’t making a huge mistake.