Chapter 8 - The Road Behind
“We’ll fight it in court!” Mason suddenly snarled, his face twisted in desperate rage. “We have lawyers too, Claire! You think you can walk in here and drop a half-million-dollar lawsuit on us? We have title insurance! We have an easement!”
Arthur Vance chuckled softly. It was the driest, most terrifying sound in the courtyard.
“I’m so glad you brought up the easement, Mason,” Arthur said, reaching into the leather portfolio and pulling out a second, thicker file bound in blue legal ribbon. “Because that brings us to the second matter of business.”
Arthur turned toward the sixty guests, who were now watching the spectacle like patrons at a Roman colosseum.
“Many of you parked your vehicles along the rear gravel access road this evening,” Arthur announced politely. “I must inform you that the rear road is not a public thoroughfare. It is a private access way constructed in 1912, deeded exclusively to the owner of Number 18.”
Mason’s eyes bulged. “That road has been used for fifty years! It’s a grandfathered prescriptive easement!”
“It was a permissive easement,” Arthur corrected calmly, tapping a yellowed parchment document from 1954. “Subject to the condition that the owner of Number 16 maintain structural integrity and show good stewardship toward the boundary flora. Section 9 states clearly: *Any willful destruction of boundary timber by the secondary parcel shall immediately and permanently terminate all ingress and egress rights.*”
The deputies took a step forward.
“As of six o’clock this evening,” Arthur continued, “Miss Claire Sterling has officially revoked all access to the private rear road. The gate at the north junction is currently being padlocked by municipal contractors. All vehicles parked on that lane have precisely twenty minutes to vacate before they are towed at the owners’ expense.”
A panicked murmur broke out among the guests. Two corporate directors immediately abandoned their drinks on the patio tables and rushed toward the side path to move their Mercedes and Porsches before the tow trucks arrived. Within sixty seconds, the manicured gathering turned into a frantic, chaotic exodus.
“Wait! Please!” Lauren pleaded, running after the managing partner’s wife. “Mrs. Vance, please don't leave! It’s just a misunderstanding! We’re serving dinner in ten minutes!”
The woman pulled her silk wrap tightly around her shoulders and looked at Lauren with cold pity. “Goodnight, Lauren. I don't think this is an appropriate environment for us.”
One by one, the elite guests vanished into the night, their car engines roaring as they sped away from Hawthorne Lane.
May you like
Within five minutes, the terrace was empty, save for the caterers who were hastily packing up their warming trays, the sheriff’s deputies, my sobbing sister, my pale brother-in-law, my shattered parents, and me.
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