Preston’s voice was careful. “Gordon, someone filed a document on this property eight months ago. It’s a loan application listing Colin as the sole owner of the Westfield house, and the signature on the attached deed is supposedly yours.” My coffee went cold in my hand. I had never signed anything of the kind. Preston added quietly, “The bank already released the funds.”

Before I could answer, headlights swept across my kitchen window. A car door slammed, and someone pounded on my front door. Through the glass I saw Colin, pale and sweating, with Paige beside him, clutching a thick folder to her chest. “Dad, please open up,” he shouted. “Before you hear the rest, you need to know what I did, and who else is about to get hurt.”