The bailiff administered the oath.
Her pearls rose and fell against her throat as she sat.
Her own attorney began carefully.
“When did you first learn that the lake house had been transferred?”
“After Frank died.”
“How did you learn?”
“Margaret said the house belonged to her.”
“Did you believe your son intended that result?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the house came from our family.”
That answer was not true.
Frank had purchased the property after we married.
Evelyn had visited it, criticized the furniture, and referred to it as Frank’s house, but she had never contributed to the purchase.
Her attorney knew the danger.
He shifted quickly.
“Did Mr.
Hayes ever tell you he planned to place the property in joint ownership?”
“No.”
“Did he discuss legal documents with you during his illness?”
“He said Margaret handled everything.”
The attorney ended there.
Judge Bennett looked at me.
“Your witness.”
I carried only the clerk’s receipt to the lectern.
“Mrs.
Carter, you testified that you learned of my ownership after Frank died.
Correct?”
“Yes.”
“You did not attend the closing when the deed was signed?”
“No.”
“You did not speak with the notary?”
“No.”
“You did not speak with the county clerk?”
“No.”
“You did not examine the mortgage records?”
“No.”
“You did not ask when the deed was recorded before accusing me of manipulating a man undergoing chemotherapy?”
Her attorney objected to the form of the question.
I rephrased it.
“Before signing your sworn petition, did you verify the recording date?”
Evelyn looked toward her lawyers.
“No.”
“Did anyone prevent you from checking it?”
“No.”
“Your petition states that Frank signed the deed while confused by treatment.
Who told you that?”
“He told me Margaret was making him sign papers.”
“When?”
“During chemotherapy.”
“What papers?”
“I do not know.”
“So he never told you the deed was signed during chemotherapy?”
“He did not have to.
I knew what she was doing.”
I let the silence remain for two seconds.
