Mark knew about those stories too.
I remembered him reading one aloud at the breakfast table two years ago, shaking his head and laughing. “Can you believe it? Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Di. Once you’re in, you’re in.”
He hadn’t been laughing at the squatters.
He’d been taking notes.
Rachel glanced at me. “Ask him for the date,” she mouthed.
“Officer Hale,” I said slowly, “what date is on the lease?”
I heard paper rustle.
“It’s dated September 14th of this year.”
I closed my eyes.
Then I opened them and pulled up my closing documents again.
“Officer, I didn’t own that house on September 14th.”
Silence.
“I closed on October 1st,” I said. “Eleven days ago. On September 14th, that house belonged to a retired couple named Bill and Sandra Okafor. They’d already moved to Arizona. I hadn’t even been given the keys. I couldn’t have leased a house I didn’t own yet.”
