Chương 9
“Grant?”
Martin exhaled.
“Your father admired him.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“He admired his intelligence.”
“Still not an answer.”
“He did not trust his appetite.”
I closed my eyes.
My father had used that word about men before.
Appetite.
He meant money, attention, status, admiration, the inability to leave anything on the table simply because it was enough.
“What did he think Grant would do?”
“He thought Grant would eventually try to consolidate control.”
“Of Northstar?”
“Yes.”
“And the patents were leverage.”
“Insurance.”
Against my husband.
My father had built a secret structure inside my trust because he believed the man I was about to marry might one day need to be stopped.
A new anger rose, but it had nowhere clean to go.
At Grant.
At my father.
At Martin.
At myself for being the only person who seemed not to have been invited into the truth of my own life.
“Did Dad know Grant cheated on me?”
Martin was silent.
“That means yes.”
“He told me there had been an incident.”
“An incident.”
“I’m not defending the language.”
“You all had meetings about my marriage without me.”
“No.”
“Martin.”
“Not meetings.”
“Wonderful distinction.”
“Claire, your father was dying.”
“And apparently extremely busy.”
The cruelty came out before I could stop it.
Martin did not answer.
I felt ashamed immediately.
Not enough to apologize.
Not yet.
Lena stepped away to give me privacy I had already destroyed by putting the call on speaker.
I swallowed.
“What happened after Dad died?”
Martin’s voice softened.
“I received the instruction package.”
“And you executed it.”
“Yes.”
“Using my credentials.”
“No.”
I froze.
“What?”
“I authorized the trust transaction in my capacity as counsel.”
“Then why does the audit log show my login?”
“I have no idea.”
Daniel leaned toward the phone.
“Did you ever possess Ms. Hale’s challenge-response information?”
“No.”
“Could anyone in your office?”
“No.”
“Did you access the lake house?”
“Not after Robert’s funeral.”
I looked at Lena.
She shook her head slightly.
No obvious answer.
“Martin, who knew about the instruction?”
“Myself.”
“Dad.”
“Obviously.”
“Who else?”
A longer pause.
“Evelyn Shaw.”
I straightened.
“Evelyn?”
“Yes.”
The board chair who had stood beside me at the airport.
The woman who had handed Grant his suspension.
The woman who had gotten on my plane.
I looked at Daniel.
He looked just as surprised.
“Why did Evelyn know?”
“Because your father appointed her as contingent protector of the trust’s Northstar interests.”
I had never heard the phrase.
Daniel apparently had.
His expression sharpened.
“Protector with what authority?”
“Limited authority.”
“To do what?”
“Block transactions involving Northstar assets if she believed they endangered Claire’s controlling interest.”
Daniel looked toward me.
“Was that disclosed in the current trust schedule?”
“It should have been.”
“It wasn’t.”
Martin went quiet.
“Then someone removed it.”
The hallway seemed to lose sound.
I said, “Who could remove it?”
“A trustee amendment would require documentation.”
“Who?”
“Claire, I cannot answer that without seeing the file.”
Lena was already opening her laptop again.
“Send me everything you have.”
Martin hesitated.
Daniel said, “Mr. Vale, preserve all records.”
“I know how preservation works.”
“Good.”
“I taught your first managing partner how preservation works.”
Daniel looked offended again.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Martin said, “Claire.”
“What?”
“There is something else.”
Of course there was.
I pressed my fingertips against my forehead.
“Say it.”
“Your father left a letter.”
My hand fell.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“With the Aurelius instruction packet.”
“Why have I never seen it?”
“Because the condition for delivery was never met.”
“What condition?”
Martin breathed in slowly.
“He instructed me to give it to you only if Grant attempted to use Northstar funds to purchase the Vela patents.”
No one moved.
I stared at the dark window.
“That happened three years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you give me the letter?”
Martin’s voice cracked.
It was the first time I had ever heard that sound from him.
“Because I did not know the purchase had happened.”
“How could you not know?”
“I retired from active trust work four years ago.”
“You were still counsel of record.”
“Nominally.”
“That isn’t good enough.”
“No.”
“At least we agree.”
“I learned of the Aurelius sale six months after it closed.”
I turned from the window.
“And then?”
“And then I made the mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“I called Evelyn.”
The elevator chimed behind us.
I looked up.
Evelyn Shaw stepped into the hallway.
She had put her shoes back on.
Her cream suit was wrinkled now, and her silver hair had loosened near one temple.
She saw my phone on speaker.
Then she heard Martin’s voice.
No one had to tell her what we were discussing.
She stopped walking.
I looked at her.
“Martin says my father left me a letter.”
Evelyn’s face changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“Claire.”
“Did you know about it?”
“Yes.”
The answer came quietly.
I felt something inside me harden.
“Did you know Northstar bought the patents back?”
“Yes.”
Daniel swore under his breath.
Lena stared at her.
I said, “For thirty-four million dollars.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my trust owned part of Aurelius.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I didn’t know.”
Evelyn did not answer.
“Say it.”
“Yes.”
I stepped toward her.
“And you stood beside me tonight acting like Grant was the only person hiding things.”
“He is not.”
“You let me get on that plane.”
“I was trying to protect an investigation.”
“From me?”
“From everyone.”
“That sounds familiar.”
Evelyn absorbed the insult without flinching.
“You have every right to be furious.”
“Don’t manage my emotions.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re doing it now.”
She looked toward the NICU doors.
“Grant is in there?”
“Yes.”
“With his son.”
“Yes.”
Evelyn nodded once.
Then she looked at Daniel.
“We need a private room.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
I pointed toward the line of plastic chairs.
“We have a hallway.”
“Claire, what I need to tell you—”
May you like
“You’ve all spent years deciding what I’m ready to hear.”
My voice remained low.
