Northstar Land Solutions LLC.
She looked up.
"Who owns this company?"
Gerald swallowed.
"I think it's connected to Patricia's brother."
The night seemed suddenly colder.
Eleanor folded the paper.
"Why are you telling me this now?"
Gerald looked ashamed.
"Because your father asked me the same question."
Eleanor stared.
"When?"
"Two months before he died."
Her breath caught.
"What did you tell him?"
Gerald looked away.
"Nothing."
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Gerald whispered, "I was afraid."
Eleanor looked down at the document.
She had thought she was dealing with an HOA president who wanted a shortcut through her property.
Now she was beginning to suspect that the bridge was connected to something much larger.
And that her father had discovered it before she did.
Patricia Voss had spent twenty years building a reputation in Briarwood Estates.
She chaired the architectural review committee.
Organized holiday celebrations.
Managed landscaping contracts.
And made certain every resident knew the rules.
She believed order was the foundation of a successful community.
At least, that was what she told people.
In private, Patricia believed something simpler.
People respected those who controlled decisions.
And she intended to remain in control.
Her house stood on a hill overlooking the neighborhood's artificial lake.
It had six bedrooms, a marble staircase, and a dining room large enough for twenty guests.
Her late husband, Richard, had built it during the development's earliest years.
For a long time, Patricia had considered Briarwood his greatest achievement.
After his death, she began treating the neighborhood as something she had inherited.
Not legally.
But emotionally.
The HOA presidency gave her influence.
She decided which contractors received work.
Which projects were approved.
Which complaints were prioritized.
And which residents were considered troublesome.
Eleanor Price had become troublesome.
Patricia sat in her home office, staring at a photograph of the locked bridge.
Her brother, Douglas Mercer, stood beside the desk.
Douglas was fifty-one, broad-faced, and perpetually overdressed. He owned several small consulting businesses and described himself as a land development specialist.
In reality, much of his income came from helping property owners navigate local approvals.
Some of his work was legitimate.
Some was difficult to explain.
Patricia looked at him.
"The deputies refused to make her open it."
Douglas shrugged.
"Of course they did. It's a civil dispute."
"Richard always said the bridge belonged to the community."
"Richard said a lot of things."
Patricia glared.
"Don't start."
Douglas sat.
"Did she show them the deed?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"The deputy wouldn't take a position."
Douglas rubbed his forehead.
"Patricia, we need to be careful."
She stared.
"Since when?"
"Since Eleanor Price started asking questions."
Patricia looked toward the window.
"She's an engineer. She thinks she knows everything."
"An engineer with a property deed and an attorney."
Patricia folded her arms.
"We have the subdivision map."
Douglas sighed.
"That map may not establish what you think it does."
She turned sharply.
"What does that mean?"
He hesitated.
"Richard knew the bridge corridor was disputed."
Patricia stared.
"Don't say that."
"It's true."
"He told me Benjamin agreed to access."
"Temporary access, perhaps. Not necessarily a permanent right."
Patricia stood.
"You're suggesting my husband lied?"
Douglas looked uncomfortable.
"I'm suggesting we should examine the records before making more claims."
She paced behind her desk.
For years, she'd relied on Richard's assurances.
The bridge was essential to the neighborhood's image.
Without it, the scenic shortcut disappeared.
Properties near the creek might lose some of their appeal.
And the HOA's recent spending on bridge-related projects would attract scrutiny.
She stopped.
"What about Northstar?"
Douglas stiffened.
"What about it?"
"Gerald has been asking questions."
Douglas looked at her.
"How much does he know?"
"I don't know."
"Then find out."
Patricia's expression hardened.
"I think he spoke to Eleanor."
Douglas stood abruptly.
"Patricia, tell me you didn't use HOA money for anything that wasn't approved."
She stared at him.
"You were paid for consulting."
"Yes. For preliminary feasibility work."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is that you told the board the association already controlled the crossing."
Patricia waved a hand.
"We were going to resolve that."
"With whose signature?"
She said nothing.
Douglas stared.
"Patricia."
She looked away.
He lowered his voice.
"What did you do?"
Before she could answer, her phone rang.
It was the HOA's management company.
Patricia answered sharply.
"What?"
A nervous voice responded.
"Mrs. Voss, we've received a records request from Ms. Price's attorney."
Patricia froze.
"What records?"
"Board minutes, financial statements, contracts relating to the bridge, and correspondence with Northstar Land Solutions."
Douglas closed his eyes.
Patricia gripped the phone.
"Don't send anything."
The manager hesitated.
"We need legal guidance about our obligations."
"I said don't send anything until I've reviewed it."
She ended the call.
Douglas stared at her.
"That was a mistake."
Patricia turned.
"What?"
"You can't simply order people to withhold records without understanding their legal obligations."
She looked furious.
"Whose side are you on?"
Douglas picked up his jacket.
"The side that doesn't end with a lawsuit."
He walked toward the door.
Patricia called after him.
"You're not leaving."
He stopped.
"Then tell me what happened to the original survey."
Patricia went still.
Douglas turned slowly.
"Richard told me there were two versions."
She stared.
He continued.
"One showing the proposed access corridor. One showing the final boundary."
Patricia said nothing.
Douglas looked at her.
"Which one did the HOA use?"
Her silence answered more than words could.
Across town, Eleanor was meeting with Miriam Cole.
The attorney had obtained certified copies of several county records.
They spread the documents across a conference table.
Eleanor examined the subdivision plat.
"This line is wrong."
Miriam leaned closer.
"Which line?"
"The eastern boundary."
Eleanor pointed.
"The curve doesn't match the creek alignment or the adjoining parcel description."
Miriam studied the drawing.
"Could it be a drafting error?"
"Possibly."
Eleanor reached for her father's survey.
"But look at this."
She placed the older survey beside the subdivision plat.
The discrepancy was subtle.
A line had been shifted enough to include the bridge approach within the development's proposed access area.
Miriam frowned.
"We'll need a licensed surveyor to evaluate the records."
Eleanor nodded.
"Agreed."
Then she noticed something else.
The plat contained a notation referencing an exhibit.
SEE ACCESS AGREEMENT — EXHIBIT C.
Eleanor looked up.
"Where's Exhibit C?"
Miriam checked the county record package.
"It isn't attached to this copy."
"Was it ever recorded?"