“How long do you think they’ve actually been staying there?” Howard asked again. I looked back toward the cottage across the water and realized I did not know. The vehicles had the settled look of people who had unpacked, not visitors who had just arrived. Howard’s voice grew serious. If they had been living there for weeks, receiving mail, storing belongings, treating it as a residence, then under state law they might try to claim tenant rights.
He told me to drive back, photograph everything, and check the mailbox and the bedrooms before anyone finished leaving. My hour had not yet passed. I set down my coffee, started the truck, and returned to the cottage with a very different purpose than the one I had left with. What I found in the guest bedroom stopped me cold.
STORY CONTINUES HERE… ⬇️ ⬇️ ⬇️
