PART 4 — I Found Out Why Tyler Wanted Those Eight Feet So Badly
The man beside Tyler wasn't a contractor.
He wasn't a landscaper.
And he wasn't someone I recognized.
He wore a dark jacket and a baseball cap pulled low over his face.
At 2:13 a.m., he stood beside my oak tree while Tyler pointed toward the ground.
The man held a shovel.
They stayed there for nearly twenty minutes.
Then they walked away.
I saved the footage.
I sent it to Rachel.
Her response came almost immediately.
“Don't confront him.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
“Who do you think the other man is?”
“I don't know.”
“Can we identify him?”
“Maybe.”
She asked me to send the clearest frame.
I did.
Two hours later, she called.
“I have a name.”
“Who?”
“His name is Martin Cole.”
“Who is he?”
“That's the interesting part.”
She paused.
“He isn't connected to Tyler's construction company.”
“What is he connected to?”
“A surveying firm.”
I frowned.
“Why would a surveyor be digging beside my tree at two in the morning?”
“I don't know.”
Then Rachel said:
“But I found something.”
“What?”
“Martin Cole worked for the company that surveyed Tyler's property before he bought it.”
I sat down.
“So he knew where the boundary was.”
“Yes.”
“Then Tyler definitely knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why were they digging?”
“That is what we need to find out.”
* * *
The next morning, I walked around the oak tree.
I didn't touch the ground.
I simply looked.
The soil near the roots appeared disturbed.
I called Rachel.
She arrived with a specialist.
He examined the area.
Then he found a small metal object buried beneath the soil.
It wasn't a property marker.
It wasn't a pipe.
It was an old metal survey monument.
Rachel stared at it.
“Jason.”
“What?”
“This is older than your house.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the original boundary may have been marked here decades ago.”
She checked the county records.
Then her eyes widened.
“This is the original property corner.”
I looked toward Tyler's fence.
The fence was almost eight feet away.
“Then why did he place it there?”
Rachel crouched near the marker.
“Maybe he wanted you to think the old boundary marker didn't exist.”
“But why?”
She stood.
“Because something else is here.”
“What?”
She pointed toward the ground.
“The recorded easement.”
I frowned.
“We already knew about that.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“This is different.”
She pulled out an old plat map.
A faint line ran from the oak tree toward the rear of Tyler's property.
“It isn't just a drainage easement.”
“What is it?”
“An access corridor.”
“For what?”
Rachel stared at the map.
“Utilities.”
* * *
We contacted the utility company.
A technician arrived that afternoon.
He scanned the ground.
Then he stopped.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“An old service line.”
He marked the location.
The underground line crossed Tyler's new backyard.
Then it continued beneath the pool.
I looked at Rachel.
“Can he build over that?”
“Not without approval.”
The technician shook his head.
“And I don't see any relocation permit.”
I almost laughed.
Tyler had built a pool over an underground utility corridor.
Rachel smiled.
“This explains the obsession.”
“What?”
“Those eight feet aren't random.”
She pointed toward the map.
“Your property is the only access route to this utility line.”
“So?”
“If maintenance is ever required, workers need legal access.”
“And Tyler built a permanent structure over it.”
“Yes.”
Suddenly, the entire situation made sense.
Tyler didn't just want extra lawn.
He wanted control over the access route.
* * *
That evening, I confronted him.
Not angrily.
I simply stood at the fence.
“Tyler.”
He came outside.
“What?”
“Why did you dig near my oak tree?”
His face changed.
“I didn't.”
“I have video.”
Silence.
“Martin Cole was with you.”
Tyler stared at me.
Then he said:
“You're spying on me?”
“You were on my property.”
“I wasn't.”
“You crossed the boundary at 2:13 a.m.”
He stepped closer.
“You don't understand what you're talking about.”
“Then explain.”
He didn't.
I pointed toward the pool.
“Did you know about the utility corridor?”
His face went pale.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
“You knew.”
Tyler looked away.
“I didn't know.”
“Your surveyor did.”
Silence.
“And Martin Cole?”
Nothing.
I shook my head.
“You knew exactly where the boundary was.”
He finally snapped.
“You think I wanted your stupid eight feet?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Then why?”
“Because I had no choice.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked around.
Then lowered his voice.
“The house was sold to me with a promise.”
“What promise?”
“That the access corridor would be abandoned.”
“By whom?”
“The previous owner.”
“And?”
“He lied.”
I stared at him.
“That's your problem.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You don't understand.”
Then he said:
“If the utility company discovers that line, they can tear up my entire backyard.”
I looked toward the pool.
“So you built the fence over my land to make the access corridor appear to be yours.”
He said nothing.
“And the pool?”
“I thought if I finished everything…”
“You could force the utility company to deal with you.”
He nodded reluctantly.
I couldn't believe it.
He hadn't stolen my land because he wanted more space.
He had stolen it to hide a problem with his property.
* * *
Rachel filed an emergency request with the county.
Within forty-eight hours, the utility company confirmed the corridor was active.
Tyler's pool construction had violated the access restrictions.
His retaining wall also blocked the maintenance route.
The county ordered him to remove both structures.
His attorney immediately requested a hearing.
But then something unexpected happened.
Martin Cole contacted Rachel.
He wanted to speak.
We met in a conference room.
He looked nervous.
“I shouldn't have helped Tyler.”
“Why did you?”
“He paid me.”
“How much?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
“To move the marker?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“He wanted me to locate the old boundary monument.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“He wanted to know exactly where the utility corridor started.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“And what did he do with that information?”
Martin hesitated.
“He gave it to someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don't know his name.”
“Then how did you communicate?”
“Through Tyler.”
I asked:
“What was the plan?”
Martin looked at me.
“Tyler wanted to convince the utility company that the corridor had been abandoned.”
“And if that failed?”
Martin lowered his head.
“He planned to claim the strip through long-term use.”
My stomach tightened.
“He was trying to build a legal claim.”
“Yes.”
“By knowingly trespassing.”
“Yes.”
Rachel leaned back.
Then Martin said:
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
“Tyler wasn't acting alone.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who was helping him?”
Martin pulled out his phone.
He showed us a photograph.
It was a group chat.
Several names.
One of them was familiar.
I recognized it immediately.
It belonged to a local attorney.
An attorney who had represented Tyler in another property dispute.
Rachel stared at the screen.
Then she whispered:
“This is much bigger than a fence.”
Martin nodded.
“And Jason…”
“What?”
“He wasn't trying to take eight feet.”
He zoomed in on the map.
“The final plan was to take the entire eastern side of your property.”
I stared at the screen.
My house.
My oak tree.
My shed.
Everything.
Tyler hadn't made one illegal move.
He had planned an entire takeover.
And now I knew the reason.
The old utility corridor wasn't the prize.
Something much more valuable was buried beneath it.
Something Tyler believed belonged to him.
And according to Martin…
it had been hidden there for decades.
