Chapter 19 - The Auction of Arrogance
The internet is ruthless to hypocrites.
Within four hours of posting the video clip alongside a redacted scan of the county court order detailing Andrew’s fraudulent four-hundred-thousand-dollar encumbrance, the tide turned like a tidal wave hitting a sandcastle.
The local Facebook groups exploded. Neighbors who had attended the garden tea shared photos of Evelyn shrieking at the sheriff. Parents from Mia’s high school rallied, posting pictures of Mia delivering her valedictorian address to an auditorium where Evelyn and Andrew’s seats had sat conspicuously empty.
By Monday afternoon, Evelyn’s tearful video had been taken down.
The consequences for Andrew were catastrophic. The senior partners at his investment consulting firm, terrified of regulatory blowback from the commercial fraud allegations, issued a formal press release announcing Andrew’s immediate suspension pending an internal audit. The bank holding the four-hundred-thousand-dollar note issued a formal notice of default, demanding full accelerated payment within ten days.
On Wednesday morning, Marcus received a frantic call from an estate liquidation firm.
"Marcus," the liquidator said. "We were hired by an Andrew Vance to appraise and remove the contents of 442 Elmhurst Lane. He told us he had full legal title to sell off the furnishings, including the nineteenth-century Chippendale dining set and the Vance family silver."
Marcus’s pen stopped on his desk. "Did you sign a contract?"
"We were about to dispatch the trucks," the liquidator replied nervously. "But one of our junior appraisers saw the news articles online. We ran a lien search and saw the trust declaration. Does Mr. Vance have authority to liquidate that personal property?"
"If Mr. Vance moves one candlestick out of that house," Marcus stated, "he will be committing grand larceny of an estate asset. Eleanor Vance’s will specifically bequeathed all tangible personal property within the residence to the trust, which is controlled exclusively by Claire."
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When Marcus hung up the phone, he turned to me. "Andrew is trying to strip the house bare before July first. He needs liquid cash to stave off his bank default, and he’s willing to sell Eleanor’s heirlooms to get it."
"He won't get the chance," I said, grabbing my keys. "Call the sheriff. We're going to Elmhurst Lane right now."
