Madelyn "Lyn" Creeke and her grandmother were the last of their family. At least, that's what Lyn's grandmother always led her to believe.
Lyn had never heard of or seen pictures of Georgina Creeke, a great aunt that had been living a few hours awa...
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"I don't care how bad the problem is," I said, with an indifferent shake of my head. "The buyers can deal with it if they feel like it. Of course, that's if they even notice all these nitpicky things you have listed here."
"Yes, I am pretty thorough." He flashed me a Cheshire cat smile and a shiver of unease tickled my spine. "You see, as the maintenance guy here, I have a much better picture of what's wrong with the house than a normal inspector would. Your buyer's inspector can't open up walls or look under the carpet, really do anything invasive. But, since I can poke around all I want, I can find every little thing that's not up to code, and those can add up to some rather problematic violations if left unattended."
"Yeah, that's great." I shrugged, but his adamantly impish smile continued to chip away at my confidence. "Again, though, the buyer can deal with it whenever they stumble across it."
"Except there's no stumbling necessary now," he said, his smile widening. "You either get these problems resolved and up to code or you disclose that entire report before signing a contract on the house."
"Excuse me?" My words hissed through my teeth, realizing his trap had finally snapped.
"You are legally obligated in this state to disclose any inspection reports that you have seen in the past three years. If you don't and the buyer finds a costly issue after the sale, an issue you were aware of, then they have grounds for a lawsuit."
"What? That can't be..."
"It's true," added Saundra with a sigh. "The state requires that you disclose inspection reports." She gave Jordan a sideways glance as she shook her head, but he returned it with a boyish grin and an unapologetic shrug.
"Why didn't you warn me before I signed the papers?" I turned my frustration upon the lawyer, who answered back with a stern glare that kept me from fuming further.
"Ms. Creeke, your great aunt was my client and though I am working with you to resolve the will, that does not mean I'm employed by you. Also, Mr. Wells would have included a statement in that packet you just signed, stating you acknowledge your obligation to disclose the report. I assume you would never sign something you hadn't read."
"We both know that's not what you assumed." Despite my anger, my tone is more frustrated self-deprecation than anything else.
"Plausible deniability on my part," she replied with a shrug.
"Well, even if this is true, you're just a handyman. How can I trust your assessments?" I was grasping at straws, though I feared they would only cast me farther into the pit I was digging around myself. "Are you licensed? Are you certified?"
"Yes and yes," he answered simply. "I'm a licensed and certified home inspector. I do it on the side whenever a need arises in town. And, as a home inspector, I can tell you that you either need to get these repairs fixed before selling or you need to disclose the report and watch the house's value plummet because of it."
