Page 70 of Miss Humbug
“At least this idea might shine up the tarnished family reputation,” Cara said. “The local My Hood forum is steamed up about the calamity in town square. They’re speculating we’ve driven up the city’s crime rate.”
Ashe sat back in a squeaky leather chair. “Maybe we can get out of community service duty if we donate the house.”
Cara cast him a lethal glare. “You need to serve your time. You know what you did.”
Riley yawned and stretched. “Now the big question: do we wait for Christmas dinner to tell Grans, or tell her as soon as she gets back?”
We chattered among ourselves, feeling pretty proud of the progress we’d made.
Ashe stood. “We should look at the property lines and get a lay of the land while we’re putting this plan together. Shawn, do you know where Grans stores the deed?”
Shawn crossed the room. “Isn’t there a safe in this lower bookcase cabinet?” He knelt and opened the doors. “Bingo.”
Ashe rubbed his hands together. “Nice. I’m pretty sure the combination is Gramps’ and Grans’ anniversary date.” He lowered to the level of the safe.
Cara nudged him with her knee. “Well go ahead—put in the combination.”
He angled to look at her. “It’s uh…”
She rattled off the date from memory.
Ashe coughed. “Thanks. You know I’m not great at remembering dates.” He tapped in the numbers and the safe beeped. The door unlocked.
“This is the least suspenseful escape room I’ve ever been in,” Shawn quipped.
Ashe pulled out several large manila envelopes. Each wore labels from a label maker, making it easy to find the land deed and accompanying property map.
He spread the map across the large heavy desk in the room, now used more for decoration than business. We all hovered over it.
“Huh, what’s this?” Ashe held up what looked like a sticky note that over time had lost its stick. “‘Three acres to Stan Sawyer.’ It’s got Gramps’ signature.”
“Gramps planned to sell land to the Sawyers?” I leaned in to read the note. “Is there a date? Did he pass away before the deal?”
Rafe tapped the map. “Check this out. There’s a faint line running here. Looks like it’s marked in pencil. It parallels the farm border, but it’s farther in toward the house.”
Ashe blinked. “That looks like the farm’s property line now. See how this ridge goes this direction? Here’s the hill and their fence line. Me and the kids ran around out there the other day. This pencil line to the border—that gap might be three acres.”
A growing sense of dread crept in. “What does this mean?”
Ashe emptied the folder. Only one other sheet remained and it had nothing to do with a land sale to the Sawyers. “It seems like Gramps gave this chunk of land to the Sawyers, but I’m not sure they actually own it. Which means part of their farm is built on Holly land.”
Just then a figure shadowed the doorway of the library. Work coat and a plaid scarf. All eyes turned to Ethan Sawyer.
Chapter 25
Ethan
“Uh, hey everybody. What’s going on?”
Marlowe, her siblings, and cousins—everyone but Emmaline—crowded around the library’s big desk with what looked like a map spread across it. They all stared at me.
Ashe held up a small note. “Did you know about a land sale between your father and Gramps? Would have been at least seven years back. Maybe longer. There’s no date.”
My heart stilled. Was this what Marlowe wanted me here for? No, she’d texted at least an hour ago. Based on their expressions, this appeared to be a new discovery.
I tugged my scarf free from my neck. “Uh, I…yeah. It’s a few acres.”
“There doesn’t seem to be paperwork for it,” Ashe went on. “Does your dad have it?”
