My 8-year-old Grandson Whispered A Secret About “grandpa’s New Friend.” I Just Discovered They Stole My House And $237k. How Do I Handle This?

Countdown to Closing

The next week was the longest of my life. I cooked Richard’s favorite meals.

I smiled when he told me about his coffee outings. I pretended not to notice when he stepped outside to take phone calls.

Every night I lay beside him and counted the ceiling tiles, planning my next move. Patricia called on Thursday.

“Found it. There’s a property on Lake Dylan listed under a new LLC called Palmer Sullivan Ventures.”

The down payment was $50,000, paid from the joint account two months ago. Closing is scheduled for next Friday.

Next Friday. That gave us eight days.

“There’s more,”

patricia continued.

“I spoke with a contact at the county recorder’s office. Someone inquired about expedited filing for a quit claim deed.”

They were told there’s a three-week backlog so they haven’t filed yet. But they’re planning to.

Carolyn and I met that evening to strategize. We had two objectives.

First, prevent the filing of the quit claim deed and any further asset transfers. Second, gather enough evidence to prove fraud and protect my interests in a divorce.

Choosing to Fight

“Mom I have to ask,”

Carolyn said gently.

“Are you sure you want to end the marriage? There’s no going back from this.”

I looked at my daughter. She had Richard’s eyes, the same shade of gray that I had once found so handsome.

“He was going to leave me homeless,”

i said.

“He was going to take everything we built together and give it to another woman.”

After 41 years, after I supported him through his business failures, nursed him through his heart surgery, raised our children while he worked late? This is not a marriage anymore. This is a con.

Carolyn nodded.

“Then we fight.”

The first step was securing my assets. Carolyn helped me open a new bank account in my name only.

We transferred the small amount that remained in my personal savings—about $12,000. It was not much but it was mine.

Next we needed evidence of the affair and the conspiracy. I was not proud of what I did next, but desperation makes you do things you never imagined.

Discarded Like a Newspaper

I hired a private investigator, a former police detective named Marcus Webb. He was expensive but Patricia assured me he was worth it.

Within three days Marcus delivered photographs of Richard and Denise entering her apartment building. Timestamps showed he spent hours there on days he claimed to be golfing.

Audio recordings came from a listening device Marcus planted in Richard’s car. It was perfectly legal in Colorado as long as one party consented and I was technically co-owner of the vehicle.

The recordings were devastating. I listened to them alone in Carolyn’s hotel room, my hands gripping the edge of the desk.

“She has no idea,”

Richard said in one recording, laughing.

“Maggie trusts me completely. She signed everything without even looking.”

“By next month the house will be mine, the accounts will be transferred, and we’ll be on our way to our new life.”

Denise’s voice was smooth, confident.

“And what about her? What happens to Maggie?”

“She can go live with Carolyn or find an apartment,”

Richard replied.

“I don’t care. I’ve given that woman 40 years of my life. Now it’s my turn to be happy.”

I had to pause the recording. I walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.

The man I had loved, the father of my children, the partner I had trusted with everything was talking about discarding me like yesterday’s newspaper. When I returned to the desk I pressed play again.

Airtight Deception

“The lakehouse is perfect,”

denise was saying.

“Once the closing goes through we can move in by summer. I’ve already picked out furniture.”

“Just make sure the LLC paperwork is airtight,”

Richard replied.

“I don’t want any complications.”

“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this before.”

That last line chilled me. “I’ve done this before.”

How many other people had this woman helped deceive? How many other spouses had been left with nothing?

Friday morning arrived, the day of the lakehouse closing. Our plan was set.

Patricia had prepared emergency motions to freeze the joint account and void the quit claim deed based on fraud and lack of informed consent. Caroline would file them the moment we had confirmation of Richard’s actions.

But we wanted more than prevention. We wanted him caught in the act.

The Silverthorne Ambush

Marcus had discovered that the closing was scheduled for 10:00 a.m. at a title company in Silverthorn near the lake. Richard had told me he was fishing with his buddy Earl; instead he would be signing papers with his mistress.

I drove to Silverthorn that morning with Carolyn beside me. Patricia remained in Denver ready to file the motions.

Marcus was already in position documenting everything. We parked across the street from the title company at 9:47.

Richard’s truck pulled into the lot. Denise was already there waiting by the door in a red dress.

She kissed him when he approached, right there in broad daylight, without a care in the world.

“Are you okay Mom?”

Carolyn asked.

“I’m fine,”

I lied.