Chương 12
“Caleb.”
Eleanor’s mouth hardened.
“So he’s involved.”
“He represented Mom.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I sent her to him.”
Maya set the egg down.
The yolk had a gray ring around it.
Her grandmother always overcooked eggs and denied doing so.
“Why?”
“Because she needed a lawyer Richard didn’t know.”
Maya’s chair scraped backward.
Eleanor looked toward the living room as if the television might object.
“Sit down.”
“Why did Mom need a lawyer Dad didn’t know?”
“Because she wanted advice that belonged to her.”
“About what?”
Eleanor folded her hands.
Maya recognized the gesture.
It had preceded bad news throughout childhood, including the death of three pets and the cancellation of a trip to Disney World after Evan broke his arm jumping from the garage roof.
“Your mother believed your father had been using money from the store to cover personal debts.”
Maya did not move.
“What debts?”
“I never knew exactly.”
“Gambling?”
“No.”
“Another woman?”
Eleanor gave her a sharp look.
“I said debts, not a soap opera.”
“Then what?”
“Credit cards, business guarantees, something involving a loan with a friend.”
“Which friend?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Mom?”
“She knew enough to be afraid.”
Maya pushed the plate away.
“So she created the trust to hide money from Dad.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“To keep one asset outside the collapse.”
“The lake property.”
“Yes.”
Maya looked toward the grocery bag.
“Who drafted it?”
“A lawyer in Milwaukee named Judith Stern.”
“Why Milwaukee?”
“Because Judith was my lawyer.”
Maya blinked.
“You had a lawyer in Milwaukee?”
“I had a life before you were born.”
“I’m beginning to suspect everyone did.”
Eleanor ignored that.
“Judith had handled property matters for your grandfather and me.”
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“I spoke to her last Christmas.”
“People call their lawyers at Christmas?”
“We sent cards.”
“That is somehow stranger.”
Eleanor’s mouth twitched.
It vanished quickly.
Maya leaned forward.
“Did Judith draft the amendment?”
“No.”
The answer came cleanly.
“Who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“You told me Mom couldn’t have signed it.”
“I told you she did not sign it in that hospital room while I was there.”
“That’s different.”
“It is exactly what I said.”
Maya searched her memory and found, with annoyance, that Eleanor was right.
“Could you have left?”
“Of course I left.”
“For how long?”
“I went home every night.”
“During the day.”
Eleanor looked toward the window.
A delivery truck idled below, making the glass vibrate faintly.
“Once.”
Maya waited.
“Maybe twice.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Grandma.”
“Six years ago, Maya.”
“You sounded very sure yesterday.”
“I was sure she didn’t sign it in front of me.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
Maya stood and walked to the counter.
Anger came easier than disappointment, so she let herself have the anger.
“You let me accuse Dad.”
“I did not tell you to accuse anyone.”
“You knew what I would think.”
“I knew what I thought.”
“And what was that?”
“That Richard had spent years making himself impossible to trust.”
Maya turned.
“That still doesn’t mean he forged Mom’s signature.”
“I never said it did.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Eleanor’s face tightened.
For a moment she looked older than she had at the door.
“Your father hurt her.”
“Financially?”
“In ways that do not fit neatly into one word.”
Maya hated the sentence because it could mean anything.
“Did he hit her?”
“No.”
“Threaten her?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you mean.”
“He lied.”
“About money?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Eleanor looked down at her hands.
“Mostly money.”
Mostly.
Maya heard it.
She almost chased it.
Instead she went to the grocery bag and removed the lockbox.
Eleanor watched her place it on the table.
“I photographed everything.”
“Good.”
“Harlan contacted me.”
Eleanor’s head came up.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“What did he want?”
“To tell me not to trust Caleb.”
A bitter little sound came from Eleanor.
“Harlan has always been very generous with other people’s suspicion.”
“You know him too.”
“I met him through Richard.”
“When?”
“Before your mother died.”
Maya opened the lockbox and removed Harlan’s card.
Eleanor did not touch it.
“Was Harlan involved in the trust?”
“No.”
“Was he involved in the lake sale?”
“Yes.”
That answer changed the room.
Maya pulled out the chair again.
“How?”
“He represented the buyer.”
“Who bought it?”
“A company.”
“What company?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember your lawyer’s Christmas cards but not who bought a piece of family property?”
“I remember Judith because she was my friend.”
“Was Northline the buyer?”
“No.”
Eleanor answered too quickly.
Maya felt something inside her settle.
Not calm.
Direction.
“You do remember.”
Eleanor stared at her.
“Grandma.”
“It wasn’t called Northline.”
“What was it called?”
Eleanor stood and carried her untouched coffee to the sink.
“Maya, some of this belongs to your mother.”
“She’s dead.”
“That does not make every private thing public.”
“No, but somebody put two hundred and eighty thousand dollars into Dad’s account, and everybody who knew Mom seems to know one piece of why except me.”
Eleanor gripped the edge of the sink.
“Harbor Ridge Holdings.”
Maya reached for her phone.
“Spell it.”
“No.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“Put the phone down.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you to listen before you start searching.”
Maya did not put it down.
Eleanor turned from the sink.
“Harbor Ridge bought the lake property.”
“And Harlan represented them.”
“Yes.”
“Who owned Harbor Ridge?”
Eleanor’s eyes moved to the lockbox.
“I don’t know who owned it then.”
“Then?”
“It changed hands.”
“When?”
“After Caroline died.”
Maya waited.
Eleanor swallowed.
“Northline acquired it.”
The refrigerator clicked off.
In the sudden quiet, Maya could hear the morning anchors in the other room laughing about somebody’s dog.
She looked at the amendment.
Then at the deposit slip.
Then back at Eleanor.
“Northline didn’t suddenly discover Mom’s trust.”
“No.”
“They inherited the problem.”
“Yes.”
“And Caleb knew because Mom had already gone to him about it.”
“I believe so.”
May you like
“About the sale?”
“About what happened afterward.”
