Chương 11
“Why?”
“Because she should see it.”
“She knows he was arrested.”
“She told me she hadn’t read the details.”
“And?”
Claire shrugged.
“I sent them.”
Emily stared at her.
“That’s your contribution?”
Claire’s face tightened.
Daniel saw it before Emily did.
“Leave her alone,” he said.
Emily turned on him.
“Oh, now you protect Claire?”
“I’m sitting right here,” Claire said.
Mark put down his fork.
“Can we make it one dinner without assigning childhood roles?”
No one answered.
Mark looked around the table.
“Apparently not.”
Claire laughed.
Daniel did too.
Even Emily smiled despite herself.
The tension eased for maybe thirty seconds.
Then Emily said, “Dad was going to give the house back to Mom.”
Daniel’s smile disappeared.
Claire looked at him.
“Is that true?”
“He had a draft prepared.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I found out after the police came.”
“Mom said he was going to sign it.”
“His attorney says he hadn’t decided.”
Emily shook her head.
“Mom says Dad told her.”
“Mom also told you my name was never on the deed.”
Emily flushed.
“That doesn’t mean every word she says is false.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You imply it.”
Daniel leaned back.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to admit Dad might have changed his mind.”
“He might have.”
Emily stopped.
Again, agreement gave her nowhere to go.
Daniel continued.
“He also might not have.”
“What does that mean for the house?”
“Legally? Nothing.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“There’s your favorite word.”
Daniel felt his temper move.
He pushed his chair back.
“I’m going outside.”
Mark sighed.
“Good dinner.”
Daniel walked onto the back deck.
Emily’s yard was small and fenced, scattered with plastic toys and a soccer goal tipped on its side.
He stood near the grill.
A minute later Claire joined him.
“You were right,” she said.
“About what?”
“Mom.”
Daniel looked at her.
Claire shook her head.
“Don’t enjoy it.”
“I’m not.”
“You are a little.”
He wanted to deny it.
Did not.
“Maybe.”
Claire leaned against the railing.
“Does that make you feel better?”
“No.”
“Good.”
They watched a neighbor drag trash bins to the curb.
After a while Claire said, “What are you going to do with the house?”
“I don’t know.”
“You always say that when you know but don’t want to say.”
Daniel looked at her.
She shrugged.
“You’re still not complex.”
He smiled.
Then it disappeared.
“I was thinking of selling.”
Claire’s face fell.
“Before all this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
She looked toward the house.
“Your debt?”
“Partly.”
“Does Mom know?”
“I told her I still owe on Dad’s guarantee. Not that I was considering selling.”
Claire nodded.
“Dad would hate that.”
“Dad isn’t paying the insurance.”
“I know.”
“He isn’t replacing the seawall either.”
“I know.”
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
The evening had turned cool.
Claire said, “I don’t think I could watch somebody else live there.”
“Neither could Mom.”
“That doesn’t make what she did okay.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Sorry.”
She laughed.
Then her expression softened.
“I miss him.”
Daniel looked at the grass.
“Yeah.”
“Do you?”
He almost made a joke.
Instead he said, “Every day.”
Claire put her head briefly against his shoulder.
Neither mentioned that the last time Daniel had seen Charles alive, they had argued.
That came later.
The criminal case against Margaret did not move dramatically.
Her attorney negotiated.
Prosecutors reviewed the evidence.
Investigators analyzed the online document service account, emails, loan application, and communications between Margaret and Wade.
In November, Rachel called Daniel into her office.
She closed the door and slid a printed page across the desk.
“What’s this?”
“An email recovered through discovery in the civil matter.”
Daniel read the sender.
Margaret.
Recipient: Wade Larkin.
Date: eight months earlier.
He read the message.
Charles wanted the house returned to me before he died. Daniel will never agree. There has to be another way.
Wade’s reply came three minutes later.
There always is.
Daniel looked up.
Rachel said nothing.
He read the next message.
Wade wrote that recorded title was “just paperwork” and that if Charles had intended the transfer, the family could correct the record.
Margaret asked how.
Wade sent a link to an online legal document service.
Daniel kept reading.
The correspondence stretched over weeks.
At first Margaret resisted.
Then she asked technical questions.
Could an unsigned draft be completed after death?
Would the recorder verify when the signature was made?
Could a notary acknowledge a signature the signer had made earlier?
Wade’s answers were vague, confident, and often wrong.
Then one email made Daniel stop.
Margaret wrote:
I will not fake his signature.
Wade replied:
No one is asking you to. Use the signature file Charles already authorized for business documents. You are completing what he intended.
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Signature file?”
“Charles’s company apparently kept scanned signatures for some internal documents years ago. Whether he authorized this specific file for general use is unclear.”
“He didn’t.”
“I’m sure.”
“Wade told her to use it.”
“Yes.”
Daniel continued reading.
Two weeks later Margaret wrote:
I can’t do this.
Then nothing for months.
The next message was sent the night Charles died.
1:36 a.m.
Margaret to Wade:
He’s gone.
Wade replied at 1:42.
I’m sorry.
At 1:44:
Do not make any financial decisions tonight.
Daniel stared at the screen.
“That doesn’t fit.”
Rachel nodded.
“No.”
The next message came from Margaret at 1:58.
What if I complete the deed now?
Wade did not respond.
At 2:11:
You said intent matters.
At 2:36:
Please call me.
No reply until 8:03 the next morning.
Margaret, do nothing with title until we talk.
Daniel leaned back.
“So she did it without him.”
“Maybe.”
“The deed document was created at two fourteen.”
“Yes.”
“She had already decided.”
Rachel folded her hands.
“This matters.”
“To his case?”
“To hers.”
Daniel looked at the messages.
He had expected evidence to simplify Margaret.
May you like
Instead it made her worse and more understandable at the same time.
Wade had planted the method.
