Chương 6
Lauren thought of Margaret sorting correspondence at the breakfast table, using a silver knife to open envelopes that were not addressed to her because, as she often said, the household could not function if everyone insisted on privacy.
“You should have come to me.”
June accepted the accusation.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Peter threatened to report me for mishandling trust documents. He said Robert’s mental capacity had deteriorated and that I had manipulated him into changing the estate plan. Margaret provided a letter from a neurologist.”
“My father didn’t have a neurologist.”
“The letterhead was real. The doctor later denied writing it.”
“When did you learn that?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“You could have found me.”
“I could have done many things better.”
June looked older than she had that morning.
“I had represented Robert for nineteen years. I should have trusted my knowledge of him over a document designed to frighten me. Instead I withdrew, preserved my file, and told myself the probate litigation would reveal the truth. There was no probate litigation because Daniel produced a trust certificate naming himself as successor trustee.”
“Forged too?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Lauren stood too quickly. The room tilted. She gripped the back of the chair.
June came around the desk.
“I need air.”
“You need dry clothes.”
“I need my father not to have been surrounded by cowards.”
June stopped.
The words remained between them.
Lauren expected anger. June only returned to her chair.
“That would have helped,” she said.
Lauren left the office wearing Leon’s spare raincoat over her wet dress. She carried the photograph, the broken bowl pieces, and copies of the documents. June kept the originals in a locked cabinet until they could be transferred to secure storage.
The rain eased by evening.
Lauren drove to her cousin Mara’s apartment in Hoboken, where she had been sleeping on a pullout sofa since Daniel changed the locks. Mara worked night shifts as a respiratory therapist and kept her home at a temperature suitable for tropical plants. The windows were fogged. A television murmured in the bedroom where Mara’s nine-year-old dog, Winston, slept beneath a blanket.
Lauren spread the wet photograph and the pieces of the bowl on the kitchen table.
She used a butter knife to lift the frame backing. More water escaped from the corners. The photo separated from the glass with a soft tearing sound.
“No,” Lauren whispered.
She stopped pulling.
Her father’s face remained attached to the glass at the left cheek.
Lauren sat with both hands flat on the table.
The apartment was very quiet except for the refrigerator motor and Winston’s occasional snore. A stack of unopened mail leaned against a fruit bowl. Mara had left a note beside the coffee maker: Soup in fridge. Do not make decisions hungry.
Lauren heated the soup.
It tasted mostly of salt and celery. She ate standing at the counter, still wearing the ivory dress beneath Leon’s raincoat because every clean thing she owned was packed in a car that smelled like fountain water.
Her phone filled with messages.
Daniel called six times.
Margaret called once.
Peter Weller sent an email instructing her to cease making defamatory statements to financial institutions.
A number she did not recognize texted: This is Thomas Bell. Your counsel should contact the legal department at Atlantic Union Commercial. We are suspending review pending title clarification.
Lauren forwarded the message to June.
At nine fourteen, Daniel appeared at the apartment building.
Mara’s doorbell camera sent an alert to Lauren’s phone. She watched him stand in the lobby holding a paper grocery bag and a garment bag. His suit had been changed. His hair was dry. He looked composed again.
He pressed the buzzer.
Lauren did not answer.
He pressed it a second time.
The building’s front door opened behind him. A resident carrying a bicycle held it with his shoulder. Daniel thanked him and entered.
Lauren locked the apartment door.
Thirty seconds later, he knocked.
“Lauren.”
Winston woke and began barking from the bedroom.
“Go away,” she said.
“I brought clothes.”
“Leave them.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Call June.”
“This isn’t a legal conversation.”
“Everything is a legal conversation now.”
He lowered his voice. “Please.”
The word disarmed her more than anger would have.
Lauren opened the door but kept the chain secured.
Daniel held up the garment bag.
“Your gray suit. The black dress. Underwear. Shoes.”
“Did you choose the underwear?”
“Mrs. Alvarez did.”
Ana Alvarez had managed the mansion for fifteen years and knew where every spare key, prescription, and family embarrassment was kept. Lauren wondered whether Ana had watched Daniel carry the suitcase outside.
“What’s in the bag?” she asked.
“Food.”
“I have soup.”
“I remember Mara’s soup.”
Despite herself, Lauren almost smiled.
Daniel saw it and stepped closer.
The chain pulled tight.
“Five minutes,” he said.
“No.”
“Your father borrowed money from my mother too.”
Lauren’s amusement vanished.
“What?”
“He did not include that in his letter, I assume.”
“How do you know there was a letter?”
“Mother told me.”
“She didn’t see it.”
“She knew Robert wrote one.”
“Because she knew where he hid it?”
Daniel looked down the hall. An elevator opened. A woman carrying a laundry basket stepped out, saw him at the chained door, and took longer than necessary to find her keys.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
“No.”
“Robert’s company was in trouble three years ago. He used Mother’s trust as collateral for a supplier guarantee. She covered a loss of almost two million dollars.”
“Show me.”
“I don’t have the documents.”
“Convenient.”
“Peter does.”
“Peter apparently keeps several versions of everything.”
“I’m trying to tell you the situation was not one-sided.”
“Did you forge the deed?”
“No.”
“Did you know it was false?”
A pause.
Too long.
“Not at first.”
Lauren held the door.
“When did you know?”
“After it was recorded.”
“When?”
“January.”
May you like
Her father died in November.
Daniel had spent Christmas with her at Mara’s apartment. He had brought a small tree and strung lights around the window. He had slept beside her on the pullout sofa and held her through the night when she dreamed about finding Robert on the library floor.
