The Homewreckers(27)
Any news?
Hattie quickly silenced the phone, just as another text from Mo Lopez arrived.
Did you get the house? Call me ASAP
Finally, the clerk nodded and looked up, acknowledging the three strangers in the room with a curt nod.
“Is one of you Harriet Kavanaugh?”
Hattie’s heart thudded. “That’s me.”
“Congratulations. You’re the high bidder and the owner of the property at lot twelve, subdivision thirty-six, otherwise known as four-twelve Chatham Avenue.”
“Shit!” The blond man pounded the tabletop with the flat of his hand. “How much was the winning bid?”
The clerk pursed her lips and looked down at her clipboard.
“Come on, man! It’s a matter of public record.”
“Twenty-nine thousand, seven hundred twenty-eight dollars,” the clerk said. “All the pertinent information will be posted on the city’s website.”
She stood up. “Miss Kavanaugh? If you’ll come to my office, we’ll start the paperwork on your closing documents.” She gave the two men a curt, dismissive nod.
“Something ain’t right here,” the blond exclaimed loudly, shoving his chair away from the table. “This thing was rigged. She can’t buy my family’s house out from under me like that.”
“Sir?”
“Holland Creedmore,” the man said. He took a menacing step toward the clerk, who stood her ground. “The city has no business selling off my family’s property like this. It’s not right, and you know it.”
Hattie had been trying to figure out why this man looked so familiar. Now she had her answer. Back in the day, Holland Creedmore Jr. had been the pride of Cardinal Mooney. He was Mr. Everything, Mr. All-State football this, baseball that. His handsome, square-jawed face was splashed across the sports page of the Savannah newspaper on a weekly basis.
He was jowlier now, the blond hair receding from his wide forehead, and the muscled physique of his youth seemed to have softened.
The clerk’s voice was calm. “Mr. Creedmore? All legal procedures were strictly followed. The property owners were notified when the condemnation action was initiated, and given the required amount of time to mitigate the deteriorating condition of that property, which had become a public nuisance.”
“Bullshit! You people sent some kind of mumbo jumbo letter to my senile cousin who thought it was an overdue light bill.”
“The owners of record were informed, by registered letter, at each step of this process, and the city posted the condemnation proceedings in the county’s legal organ, which is the Savannah Morning News.”
“Nobody reads that rag!” Holland Creedmore shouted. “How the hell was the rest of my family supposed to know what was going on in this fuckin’ banana republic you people are running out here?”
The clerk remained unruffled. “The condemnation signs were posted, as required by law, on your family’s property a year ago. If, at any point, any member of your family had initiated any kind of maintenance of that property, or paid the property taxes, the city would have halted the condemnation process.”
“My crazy cousin had the locks changed,” Holland said. “She and my father had some kind of feud. They haven’t spoken in years.”
“Unfortunate as that is, it doesn’t change the property owners’ responsibilities or their tax liabilities,” the clerk said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Creedmore, but the matter is out of my hands.”
Holland Creedmore cursed under his breath and stormed from the room. For the first time, Hattie noticed that the older man seemed to have already slipped away.
“If you’ll follow me, we’ll get this paperwork started,” the clerk told Hattie.
* * *
She signed forms and documents for what seemed like hours, but in real time only amounted to forty minutes. Each time she signed a document, the clerk stamped it with her heavy metal notary seal.
When it was over, the clerk slipped copies of the documents into a gray plastic envelope and handed it over to Hattie.
“Well, congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Hattie said, clutching the envelope to her chest.
“And you realize that, starting today, the clock is ticking on this transaction. Correct? The conditions of this federal grant are very specific. You have twelve months to complete the restoration of your property. I’ve given you the historic preservation guidelines your project will be required to meet. You’ll have to submit plans for your restoration within a week, before your building permit can be issued, and of course, after that, call for inspections at every phase of construction. The city’s code enforcement officer will be monitoring your progress.”
“I understand,” Hattie said.
The clerk handed her a key. “Good luck.”
* * *
Hattie climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck, her heart beating wildly.
What the hell did I just do? Did I really hock my engagement ring to buy a condemned house I’ve never stepped foot inside of? Did I actually just sign my life away in there, and promise to basically rebuild something without the slightest idea of how I’ll do that? Where the hell am I going to get the money?
Her phone vibrated, and she realized she’d forgotten to switch off the silent mode.