Review: Landmark Home Solutions LLC

Landmark Home Solutions, LLC, has a A+ Better Business Bureau rating. I’m not sure how they achieved that, given our ongoing experience with this highly manipulative and deceptive company. Let me start at the beginning.

In October of last year (2023), we took in my wife’s mother who was suffering from terminal COPD and dementia. We are old ourselves. It was not an easy time. I am 72 and my wife—who you shall see signed this deal with Landmark—is 67. Her mother died in November, and my wife was the person designated to settle her estate. This included her mother’s property (house and land) outside of Deerfield, Michigan. During her research for ways to sell the house, she came across Landmark Home Solutions LLC, based out of North Carolina, but a large company with branch offices all over the country. Here is what Landmark’s website advertised:

• Tell us about your property – Quick, Easy & Free!

• If it meets our buying criteria, we’ll contact you to set up a quick appointment

• We’ll present you w/ a fair written, no-obligation offer

• We close at a local reputable title company, cash in your hands in as little as 7 days

Seven days. Then she found that Landmark has this A+ Better Business Bureau rating. She contacted Landmark and encountered friendly banter, smiles, and optimistic reassurances that this quick and easy purchase would go forward (according to the website within as little as seven days). Long story short, these were entirely manipulative sales encounters fronting for a fundamentally deceptive ad-pitch. The Better Business Bureau needs a Better Vetting Bureau.

The first purchase agreement was signed on February 20, 2024, for $76,796. After serial delays, lies, deceptions, manipulations, closing didn’t happen until June 28, 2024, and that only after she was wrangled into signing a new purchase agreement lowering the price to $73,441, on June 7^th. That is, by our calculation, not seven days, not thirty days, but 129 days.

This is “quick?”

We continued to pay electric, gas, and yard maintenance costs on the house until mid-May and for the gas to travel there and back. Below, I’ll relate how they promised to make good on that, and reneged as well. So, it wasn’t “free.”

Sherry has been strung along with (by my count to date) with eighteen verbal “we’ll probably close” dates, seventeen of which were reneged upon. This was, for my wife, a grief-saturated process, around a house she grew up in, and the loss of her parents. She could not settle her mother’s estate until the house closed. The goal posts were repeatedly moved back. It was like a frog in a pot of water, where they slowly turned up the heat. At every juncture, there were insincere apologies and vapid reassurances to string her along for a few more days, which turned into weeks, which then became months.

It was far from “easy.”

Let’s talk now about Landmark’s purchase agreement.

In it, Landmark was designated as the “buyer.” This is an extremely important point, because it became part of a legalized, manipulative, and highly deceptive stratagem. Had Landmark been the real buyer, they could (and should) have paid the promised price for the house in the advertised time, had they no third-party buyer by then (which the purchase agreement doesn’t foreclose), out of their own accounts. But they trick the Seller with an “addendum.”

Yes, you know they are going to try and sell the place on to someone else; but at the same time the credulous seller is given the impression that the closing will happen in the stated 30 days.

In fact, they had no intention of staying on schedule. They intended to re-sell it on their own time (yes, they are “investors”), but only by situating themselves as a toll-booth between my wife and a third-party buyer, with slogans and promises that made it appear it would be easier and more economical than using a reputable realtor.

This is only an appearance, because—as we discovered too late in the process—a realtor could have done exactly the same thing, in less time, with greater accountability, and quite possibly with a bigger net return. The selling point was “quick and easy,” but we are now convinced that a realtor could probably have brought the sale in at a better price and in less than 128 days.

Now! The “seller” was my wife on behalf of her mother’s estate. I emphasize this, because the implied promise is that Landmark [the contracted buyer] will pay that estate the agreed upon price even if no third-party buyer came on the scene by the closing deadline. Of the two buying options offered by Landmark, my wife selected direct sale to Landmark. This language is totally deceptive. On the website, for this option, it says: “Closing—the date of your choice.” Bald. Faced. Lie.

In the purchase agreement, it states: “TARGET CLOSING: A target closing will take place [no, it won’t actually] on or before 30 business days from the date this agreement is signed. If closing is delayed due to Seller’s non-performance or any Seller and Buyer extended negotiations, Seller agrees the contract ‘Target Closing’ will be automatically extended.”

One would think that this put the onus for extension entirely on the buyer so long as there is no non-performance by the seller (Sherry/the estate). The seller, my wife as estate representative, had performed accurately and punctually throughout.

There was no “Seller’s non-performance,” and the “negotiations” that Landmark used as an excuse for extending the closing dates, repeatedly, were between Landmark as the Seller and a third party as a Buyer . . . not what was covered in the purchase agreement between Sherry and Landmark. The addendum, which they pass off as “oh, just dotting a few i’s,” is the way they sink their teeth into you.

What they do, once they have the agreement with a credulous seller, and the trap-addendum in place, is hold the seller off with empty promises and vague excuses while they seek out the highest-paying buyer they can find, in order to avoid going into their own ample pockets to pay the agreed upon price at the agreed upon time (as is implied by the purchasing agreement).

Now to that “addendum” (which appears to be just a listing authorization form) that allows for this backroom wrangling and repeatedly raising and smashing of the expectations of a grieving and elderly woman. The way this addendum gives leeway for indefinite extensions is by giving Landmark the Seller’s limited power of attorney. It’s a weasel move.

It reads: “Seller [Sherry/estate] specifically authorizes and gives permission to the Attorney-in-Fact [of the Buyer/Landmark] to list the property on any and all multiple listing services for the purposes of marketing and selling the Property. This includes executing listing agreements, listing agreement addendums, disclosures, sales contracts, and addendums.”

So, again, you who may be considering these agreements, beware. The limited power-of-attorney not cited in the addendum but attaching to it gives these people carte blanche to extend their third-party negotiations indefinitely. The addendum gives them the permission to “list the property,” so you may think it does not in any way amend or countermand the prior contractual obligation to make good on QUOTE “a target closing will take place on or before 30 business days from the date this agreement is signed. If closing is delayed due to Seller’s non-performance or any Seller and Buyer extended negotiations.”

It does not say third-party negotiations, and so the signatory is left with the impression that Landmark will come through in the event of problems with a closing date. It’s the fine print (limited power of attorney) where they essentially have the Seller by the short hairs. Landmark representatives, meanwhile, were put into contact with the Seller (my wife) for the apparent purpose of “managing” her while the company delayed as long as possible to ensure the best deal for itself, and at the expense of this particular and vulnerable elderly woman’s time and emotional health. She was just an object to them (as you will be if you choose them).

I can’t count how many times now they responded to her concerns (and mine and her brothers’) with mealy-mouthed and soothing reassurances, each time moving the goal post back yet again. The company was dishonest, and its representatives were apparently there as quack therapists to put a velvet glove in the face of this grieving elderly woman while they kept angling to boost the bottom line (or find someone else’s pocket out of which to pay as some sort of slickster business protocol, in either case it was the same protracted and miserable experience for my wife).

Landmark’s practices, by some entrepreneurial legal voodoo we didn’t fully understand, are technically legal. They are also deceptive and completely unethical.

You’ve heard the old saw, Buyer beware. With these guys, it’s Seller beware.

Then there was the legal lie.

From the purchase agreement: “ATTORNEY FEES PROVISION: In the event of any litigation arising from breach of this agreement, or the services provided under this agreement, the prevailing party shall be entitled to recover from the non-prevailing party all reasonable costs incurred including staff time, court costs, attorneys’ fees, and all other related expenses incurred in such litigation including the enforcement of any resulting judgment.”

The representatives my wife spoke with told her that this can only be settled by mediation, not in court. (I bet they have this shit in some kind of employee’s manual.) The quote above from the contract would suggest otherwise—“the prevailing party shall be entitled to recover from the non-prevailing party all reasonable costs incurred including staff time, court [Did you get that word? Court?] costs, attorneys’ fees, and all other related expenses”—and, in any case, no one can preemptively prevent anyone else from filing litigation.

Lying. That’s what Landmark does.

We were beginning to think legal action might be the route we should have taken, but my wife’s greatest need was to put all this painful crap behind her, and the greatest skill of Landmark reps—like any con artist—was to lie, distract, soothe, and delay. I’m talking specifically about Nicholas Marsh in our case, but I’m sure they have a long players’ bench of these guys. It’s a modus operandi, not an individual character flaw.

More from the contract: “TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE: with this agreement. Each contingency contained herein shall be satisfied according to its terms by the closing date or this contract extends to provide time for satisfaction of said contingencies. Each party shall diligently pursue the completion of this transaction. Each warranty herein made survives the closing of this transaction.”

That last sentence, which I looked up, is what lawyers call a survival clause. It means, that with respect to fraud or willful misrepresentation, and with respect to willful breach, the applicable representations and warranties shall survive indefinitely. Fortunately for Landmark, we’ll be content to just warn others that there’s a rattlesnake in that pretty grass.

Now, to their incompetence as well as that of their subcontractors.

A new business law of business nature: The more remote a business is, the more unaccountable it can be; and with the loss of accountability comes an increasing tolerance for incompetence—their own and others.

Landmark bids against other similar outfits. In this, they are not unlike a flock of seagulls watching a fish cleaning station for their next meal. It’s a competition that requires speed and a bit of audacity.

As noted above, the contract addendum allows Landmark, in the so-called “direct sale to Landmark” option (ha!), to negotiate for as long as they damn well please while the original seller remains in a kind of tortuous limbo. We’d accepted that this was the case, even as our confidence in Landmark’s good faith was waning quickly, but we assumed—incorrectly, as it turns out—that they were at least competent sellers themselves.

Going back to Landmark’s original bid. They took the seagull risk during bidding against others of offering a price (well-below apparent market value), in this case, of $76,796. This was the second best offer, but Sherry and her brothers accepted it because of the totally undeserved Better Business Bureau rating. They bid on a property with an estimated value of six figures (it’s a sizeable piece of land), with a house that was built in the nineteenth century. They could have sent an inspector. You’d think that was common sense.

I’d have shown them the ancient field stone foundation that had settled (and which would require jacks and repairs) and a good deal of interior replastering (where the walls have cracked due to foundation problems). We showed the house once and concealed nothing. No one was hiding the fact that this was an old farmhouse.

Now, Landmark had two options for sales. Option one was the standard mortgage arrangement requiring a bank loan. Option two was cash buyer/as-is. Option one—as any competent real estate agents could tell you—means the bank will send an inspector out before they authorize a loan. Landmark opted for number one.

The first offer backed out, and the estate did retain the $1,000 in earnest money. This was also when, by whatever error on whomever’s part, Sherry was told by the Michigan Title Company (Landmark’s subcontractor) that she was going to have to pay $22,000 before any sale could go through. This was obviously a source of extreme consternation, but Landmark’s story—never detailed for us—was that this was a just an error. Landmark may have told the truth. Maybe some drone somewhere screwed up. Or maybe Landmark was seeing what they could get away with. We don’t know, because we have been serially deceived by them. Landmark said they’d fired an employee over it (Jeremiah Aponte).

There were three false starts (with two buyers) with Option One (bank sale). On the second one, the buyer had declined 5 days before the designated “Sherry-manager,” Nicholas (Nick) Marsh, decided to tell her that the sale was off—letting her think that whole time that the sale was on track. Let me tell you something about Nick (which probably holds true of his peers): he never loses his cool; he’s always polite; he makes all the right soothing noises—and he deceives and lies. His whole job is to keep the fish on the hook.

Lo and behold, on the third offer, the bank sent the inspectors, who—very predictably—said, you know what? That foundation needs repairs. We can’t float the loan. Duh.

Weeks of wrangling, and an entirely predictable crash. After this crash, Landmark (Nick) told us (verbally), since the thirty-day promise was receding further into the rear view mirror, that they’d begin to pick up the lawn care and utility bills. They paid for two lawn-mows and one utility bill . . . then stopped. Our surprise at their perfidy had by then transitioned from surprised outrage to a kind of grim low-burn acceptance.

Finally, after three false starts, and Landmark finally decided on option two—cash buyer, which is where they should have started.

In late May (not 30 days, but three and a half months after the purchase agreement was signed), Landmark said they couldn’t zero in on any buyer who would allow them to break even (based on the $76,796 in the original purchasing agreement), so Sherry and her brothers agreed first to a reduction to $75,000. Yet another reduction to $73,441, after Nick said they had an offer of $80,000, purchase agreement signed on June 7^th; but as noted earlier, this was a lie as well. They’d shaved $3,355 off the original offer to Sherry and the estate; but they sold not at $80,000, but at $81,500.

Nick’s pitch for the final reduction was that without it, Landmark would be in the red. (Lie, do the math.) For the record, Landmark paid the closing costs, then paid themselves $3,268 for “marketing and maintenance (Line item 1304, if anyone is interested, of the A Settlement Statement [USDHUD, OMB approved # 2502-0265]). Sherry/the estate, by the way, paid all the pro-rated taxes ($589) for the year through June (after being on the hook—“30 days to close”—since February).

Well played, Landmark. Tough shit, Sherry’s mom’s estate.

By now, our tank of trust for Landmark was on empty.

But the glitches weren’t finished. They had abandoned Michigan Title and gone with World Class Title, which we now suspect operates out of a stoned 19-year-old’s basement.

She was told on Wednesday the 19^th of June that they’d close on Friday the 21^st. On Friday, they told her closing would happen on Monday, June 24^th.

That Monday, in the paper-shuffle to achieve some kind of glide path to closing—which was supposed to have been June 21^st—she had to meet with a notary—Aaron—in our home. World Class Title’s rep was named Brandon Woerner. Brandon sent Aaron the closing paperwork with the wrong address. She had to text him the correct address. Then, Brandon texted Aaron that the wrong price was on the deed ($99,900), and asked if she’d be willing to use an online notary. Brandon emailed Sherry a link for the notary, but it had her middle initial wrong on the deed. Brandon sent another link for the online notary, upon which Sherry was required to sign her name with a computer mouse. This was an illegible mess on a background of black snow. That, too, failed like a chicken-wire canoe, so Sherry called the World Class supervisor. Another notary was sent at three o’clock that afternoon, but Brandon had given her the wrong deed; and she had to chase up Brandon for the right one. You really cannot make this stuff up.

On Monday, she was told they would close on Wednesday the 26^th, whereupon there was yet another sincere promise that the nightmare would end the following morning. That Thursday, the 27^th, she received a call saying there was some controversy between Landmark and the buyer over a $79 fee. Instead of banging her head against the wall, she took a long walk. Meanwhile, Brandon, perhaps teed off about the call to his supervisor, called Sherry, suggesting the buyer might be pulling out—untrue—with what can only be surmised was an act of pure spiteful meanness directed, need I remind readers, at a distressed 67-year-old woman.

The afternoon of the 27^th, the Landmark representative tells Sherry the closing documents are being signed; the money will be transferred on Friday, the 28^th. Friday, the 28^th, at 10:50 AM, Sherry is contacted and informed that the closing documents, in fact, have not been signed yet. Once again, like a few final twists of the knife, she is set back up with false hope, only to meet again the real face of Landmark—a machine that produces lies and delays. Sherry, with tears in her eyes (for the hundredth time), texts with them for an explanation, and she is told that the closing may happen that day (they tried to get the elderly buyers to use e-signing, but given that they can’t, they had to organize a notary to visit them . . . and, of course, they told Sherry nothing about this on the 27^th, but waited until the next day to slap her in the face with another delay). Finally, on the afternoon of the 28^th, the closing documents were signed. The money was posted at 4 PM.

Here’s what I have to say about Landmark in summary. They will smooth talk, then they’ll keep the lies and manipulation up with absolute impunity for as long as they think they can get away with it. Our advice? Stay away from Landmark.