Brooks didn’t answer.
I looked at Cole. “Who told you I wasn’t supposed to move into this house?”
He glanced toward Patricia again.
Nobody spoke for several seconds. Somewhere behind my house, a lawn mower started up.
Then Brooks held out her hand.
“Give me her card.”
Cole didn’t move.
“Mason.”
He took it from his pocket and slapped it into her palm.
Brooks studied the front, then the back. She didn’t recognize the office immediately, which was reasonable. Most people wouldn’t. I worked as a financial investigator for a federal inspector general’s office. We weren’t the FBI, and we didn’t show up in windbreakers. Most of my work involved contracts, grant money, shell companies, and people who assumed financial crimes were too boring for anyone to notice.
The house was supposed to have nothing to do with my job.
That was becoming harder to believe.
Brooks handed the card back to me.
“Can I ask why he reacted like that?”
“You can,” I said. “I’m not sure I can answer yet.”
Cole let out a sharp breath. “This is ridiculous. She buys one house and suddenly everybody’s running an investigation?”
I turned to him.
“I didn’t say I was investigating anything.”
He realized it a second too late.
Brooks did too.
Her expression flattened.
Patricia looked between us. “What does that mean?”
Cole walked toward his SUV.
Brooks caught his sleeve. “Where are you going?”
“Calling the lieutenant.”
“Your radio works fine.”
He looked at her hand until she released him.
I picked my phone up from the hood of the SUV. Cole had placed it there during the pat-down. There were two missed calls from my attorney and one text from the title company.
The title company message was short.
CALL ME. PROBLEM WITH PRIOR OWNER AFFIDAVIT.
I read it twice.
The house had been owned by a small real estate holding company before I bought it. The seller’s paperwork had been handled by a man named Daniel Keller.
Keller.
I looked across the street.
“Patricia, is Daniel your husband?”
Her mouth opened slightly.
That was enough.
Brooks looked at her. “Ma’am?”
Patricia lowered the phone all the way.
“He handles investments.”
“Did he own this house?”
“He managed it.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Patricia’s eyes moved toward Cole.
There it was again.
Not fear exactly. Coordination.
I opened the county property website on my phone. I had checked the parcel before closing, but I wanted Brooks to see it herself.