Two days later, I found myself in the office of a local lawyer, Mr. Jenkins. His office was cluttered with stacks of papers and books, the smell of old leather and ink permeating the air. “I’ve reviewed the documents,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “What you have here is an anomaly. The deed is legitimate, but the way it’s been tied to your purchase is highly irregular.”
I leaned forward in my chair, eager for answers. “What does it mean?”
Mr. Jenkins sighed, tapping a finger on the desk. “It means someone wanted this transaction to go unnoticed until it was too late.”
The thought sent a chill down my spine. “But why me? I just wanted to buy a bull, not a piece of land.”
“Perhaps you should ask the auctioneer,” he suggested, though the skepticism in his voice was clear. “Or find out who else was involved in the sale.”
That same night, I poured over the auction documents again, looking for any missed clues. The woman in the blue blazer kept coming to mind. I had to find out who she was and what role she played in all of this.
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