Chương 8
The judge had issued a limited temporary order preventing transfer of the property for ten days. It did not decide ownership. It required both sides to preserve records and allowed an expedited title examination.
“We stopped the loan,” Lauren said.
“For ten days.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“For what?”
Lauren did not know.
June continued. “Peter says the original deed you produced was revoked. He sent another trust amendment.”
“How many versions are there?”
“So far? Four.”
“Do they all have my father’s signature?”
“Yes.”
“Are any real?”
“That is what we need to establish.”
Lauren looked at the damaged photograph. She had taken it to a restoration shop that morning. The conservator refused to promise Robert’s face could be separated from the glass without further loss.
“What about the red ledger?” she asked.
“I’ve requested access to the mansion and Robert’s office.”
“They’ll say it’s gone.”
“Then we find who moved it.”
Ana Alvarez called Lauren that night.
She spoke in a whisper.
“I did not pack the photograph.”
Lauren sat upright on the sofa.
“Who did?”
“Mr. Hayes.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know the note was behind it?”
“I don’t know. He took it from the library desk and put it in the suitcase himself.”
“Why was it on the desk?”
“Mrs. Hayes had asked me to remove all photographs of your father from the public rooms before the bank came.”
“Margaret?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said the house needed to look like Daniel’s primary residence.”
Lauren closed her eyes.
“Ana, did you see a red ledger in my father’s office?”
The line went quiet.
“Mrs. Hayes told us not to speak about documents.”
“I’m not asking what she told you.”
“I have worked for the family a long time.”
“I know.”
“My daughter is in college.”
“I’m not asking you to lose your job.”
“You are asking a question that may do that.”
Lauren looked toward Mara’s bedroom. The apartment door was closed. Winston slept at her feet with one paw twitching.
“My father wrote that there was another account,” Lauren said. “He said the number was in a red ledger.”
Ana breathed in sharply.
“I saw a red book.”
“When?”
“The morning after he died.”
“Where?”
“On the floor beside the desk.”
“Who took it?”
“I did.”
Lauren stood.
“Do you still have it?”
“No.”
“What happened to it?”
“Mrs. Hayes asked for all his notebooks. I gave it to her.”
“Did Daniel see?”
“Yes.”
“Did Peter?”
“He arrived an hour later.”
“Was there anything unusual about the ledger?”
“It was not a ledger.”
“What was it?”
“A small appointment book. Red leather. Your father kept it in his inside jacket pocket.”
Lauren remembered.
Robert had carried a red book during the final months of his life. She had seen him write in it at lunch, then close it when Daniel approached. She assumed it contained medical appointments.
“Did Margaret keep it?” Lauren asked.
“I do not know.”
“Ana, would you tell June what you told me?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“Why not?”
“Because I need my job.”
“What they’re doing is illegal.”
“Maybe. But illegality does not pay tuition while people decide.”
Lauren had no reply.
Ana’s voice softened.
“I am sorry about the clothes.”
“You didn’t do it.”
“I packed them.”
“You were told to.”
“That does not make water dry.”
After the call, Lauren told June about the red appointment book.
June asked whether Ana would sign a statement.
“No.”
“Then for now we have hearsay.”
“She saw it.”
“And unless she is willing to say so under oath, we cannot build the case around her.”
“She’s afraid.”
“She has reason to be.”
“So we do nothing?”
“We find another path.”
The title examiner discovered the next contradiction two days later.
The deed filed with the county did not match the scanned deed Peter had sent June after Robert’s death. The legal descriptions were identical, but the signature pages differed. On Peter’s scan, Robert’s signature appeared above a notary acknowledgment dated November eighth, two days before his death. On the recorded version, the signature appeared above an acknowledgment dated November twentieth, three days after the funeral.
Both notary blocks carried the seal of Elaine Foster.
Elaine Foster had died nine months before Robert.
“That should be impossible,” Lauren said.
June gave her a tired look. “The document is already impossible.”
“Who was she?”
“A notary who worked in Peter’s office years ago.”
“Did he keep her seal?”
“He says no.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I believe his malpractice insurer is having a bad week.”
The title company that handled the recording claimed it received the deed electronically from an account registered to Weller Legal Group. Peter said the account had been compromised. The company’s access records showed a login from the mansion’s internet connection at 2:13 a.m. on November twentieth.
Daniel was in the house that night.
So was Margaret.
Lauren had been asleep at Mara’s apartment after taking medication prescribed by Dr. Sloane.
When June questioned Daniel’s attorney, the response came through Peter himself: several employees and guests had access to the mansion network, and an internet address did not identify a person.
Peter was correct.
Correctness made him more infuriating.
The bank suspended the refinancing indefinitely. Hayes Development missed a payment to a private lender the following Monday. Two subcontractors filed new claims. An office renovation project stopped when suppliers refused further deliveries without advance payment.
Daniel sent Lauren a photograph of thirty employees gathered in the company cafeteria.
No message accompanied it.
She deleted the image, then recovered it from the trash and stared at it for several minutes.
Some of the faces were familiar. Melissa from payroll had sent Lauren flowers after Robert died. Aaron Patel had once driven three hours to bring Daniel a contract he forgot before a closing. The receptionist, Darlene, kept a jar of lemon candies on her desk and remembered everyone’s birthday.
May you like
Lauren called Daniel.
“You do not get to send me hostages.”
