Chương 7
“What did she consult on?” Dennis asked.
“Being Brooke,” Ethan said.
Natalie gave him a tired look.
“Sorry.”
Dennis traced a series of transfers from the home-equity line into the operating account, then into personal accounts. Some could be legitimate reimbursements. Many lacked documentation.
The mansion was fourteen days from default.
The rental properties had tax arrears.
Mercer Ridge’s cash reserve was nearly gone.
The nine hundred thousand dollars would not make the family rich. It would barely keep the estate from collapsing if every questionable expense were ignored.
Ethan stared at the numbers.
His father had built the company over thirty years, beginning with two small commercial properties in Mesa. He had treated wealth as proof of good judgment and every loss as someone else’s betrayal. When he died, Ethan had accepted one-third of Mercer Ridge and handed management to Lorraine because he wanted distance from both the house and the memory of his father’s temper.
Distance had not prevented damage. It had only made the damage easier to hide.
Dennis pointed to an electronic consent form attached to the refinance application.
Ethan’s name appeared above a digital signature.
The timestamp placed him at a solar site in New Mexico.
“Could you have signed remotely?” Dennis asked.
“I could have. I didn’t.”
The access log showed the document had been opened from an IP address assigned to the mansion.
Natalie leaned closer.
Below Ethan’s signature was a spousal acknowledgment bearing her name.
“That’s what she made me sign,” she said.
“Are you sure?” Marisol asked.
“I remember the blue header.”
“Did you see the text?”
“Some of it. She covered the top with another page.”
Ethan stood abruptly and walked into the apartment’s small kitchen.
Marisol followed.
“You do not call them,” she said.
“They forged my name.”
“We have evidence your electronic signature was used from the house. We do not yet know who used it.”
“Brooke unlocked my banking app with Natalie’s phone.”
“Suspected.”
“She admitted holding the pen.”
“She said she steadied Natalie’s hand.”
“You’re defending them.”
“I’m protecting the case from your certainty.”
He lowered his voice. “I can buy their interests before the default. Once I control the company, I can get every record.”
“And if they later claim you threatened them with financial ruin while concealing a criminal accusation?”
“I’m not concealing anything. They know.”
“No. They know you are suspicious. That is not the same as being advised that a transfer may affect their legal position.”
Ethan looked toward the table. Natalie was speaking quietly with Dennis.
“I told her I’d take back everything.”
Marisol’s expression softened, which made him more angry.
“She needed safety, Ethan. You offered conquest.”
“I offered a plan.”
“You offered the kind of plan people make when they cannot undo yesterday.”
That afternoon, Ethan drove to the mansion alone to collect clothes and documents that belonged to him and Natalie. Lorraine’s attorney had agreed to supervised access for one hour. A security guard met him at the front door.
Lorraine remained upstairs.
The mansion felt staged for sale even though no sign stood outside. The flowers from the party had begun browning at the edges. Half-empty champagne glasses remained on a tray in the dining room.
Ethan entered the bedroom he and Natalie had used. Her side of the closet was almost empty.
He found two nightdresses, a cardigan, and one pair of shoes. Her medications were gone. So were the small framed photographs she kept on the dresser.
In the bathroom, a trash bin held clumps of light-brown hair.
He stood over it until the security guard shifted in the doorway.
“Sir, we have forty minutes.”
Ethan placed the bin liner inside an evidence bag Marisol had given him. It felt absurd and necessary.
In the bottom drawer of the nightstand, he found a hotel sewing kit and three folded receipts. One was from a pharmacy. Another was from a grocery store. The third was a taxi receipt dated six days earlier.
The pickup location was the mansion.
The destination was the cancer center.
The trip had been canceled after four minutes.
He photographed it.
Under the bed, taped to the wooden slat, he found a small paper notebook.
Natalie’s handwriting covered the first pages.
May 4. Lorraine said E asked her to keep my phone.
May 6. Brooke took two white pills from bottle. Said I had already taken them.
May 7. Elena heard argument.
May 8. Called E from Elena phone. No message.
May 9. L said if I ruin refinance, E loses father’s house and blames me.
The entries became less legible.
May 11. Signed. Could not read. B held arm.
May 12. Tried taxi. L canceled? Driver called house.
May 13. No appointment. They said I screamed. I did not.
The final entry was from the morning Ethan returned.
May 15. Party tonight. She says I owe family. Trays outside. Brooke says guests cannot see scarf stains.
Ethan sat on the edge of the bed.
The guard looked away.
He called Natalie.
“I found your notebook.”
A long silence.
“I forgot where I put it.”
“It’s here.”
“Read the last page.”
“I did.”
“Then read the first.”
He turned back.
The first entry was not about Lorraine.
April 18. Ethan left after we fought. I told him not to come back early. I didn’t mean it.
He closed the notebook.
“I’m bringing it to you.”
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“I wrote things when I was sick. Some dates might be wrong.”
“That’s all right.”
“It won’t be enough by itself.”
“We’ll find more.”
“You keep saying we.”
He looked at the trash bag containing her hair.
“What should I say?”
“I don’t know.”
“All right.”
May you like
Before leaving, Ethan went through his father’s office. The desk had been cleared. A framed photograph showed David Mercer shaking hands with a governor from years earlier. Ethan turned it facedown without thinking, then turned it upright again. He did not want even that gesture used against him.
In the hallway, Lorraine waited near the stairs.
