Chapter 4: What Douglas Fenn Already Knew
He answered on the second ring.
"Douglas Fenn."
"Mr.
Fenn, my name is Elena Vance.
My husband Julian—"
"Mrs.
Vance." His voice changed immediately — warmer, careful.
"I've been waiting for your call.
I'm very glad you found the folder."
I sat down in Julian's old chair.
"You knew about the folder."
"Julian and I prepared everything together.
He was very precise about what he wanted in place." A pause.
"Mrs.
Vance, are you somewhere private right now?
What I need to share with you is significant."
"I'm in my husband's study.
The door is closed."
"Good.
Then let me start at the beginning."
Douglas Fenn had first met Julian eighteen months ago, referred by Julian's cardiologist after Julian received a diagnosis he had chosen not to share with me or Garrick — a decision Julian had explained in a separate letter Douglas still held in his files.
Julian had wanted to handle things quietly.
He had wanted to protect me without frightening me.
And he had known, with the specific clarity of a man who had watched his son carefully for thirty years, that Garrick would move quickly once Julian was gone.
"Your husband discovered irregularities in a joint business account he and Garrick had opened four years ago," Douglas said.
"A small investment venture — mostly your husband's capital.
Garrick had been withdrawing from it steadily for nearly two years before Julian caught it."
My throat tightened.
"How much?"
"From the business account, approximately ninety thousand dollars.
From your personal joint account, which Garrick gained access to after Julian's passing — we're now looking at forty-six thousand more."
The number from my screen that morning.
Confirmed.
"One hundred and thirty-six thousand dollars," I said.
"Yes."
I stared at Julian's handwriting on the letter in my lap.
*Things about Garrick that I should have told you years ago.*
"Mr.
Fenn," I said.
"What did Julian arrange?"
"Several things.
First, he had already removed Garrick from the will entirely — quietly, without announcement.
The house is yours outright and is protected in a trust that cannot be contested.
Second, he retained me to monitor the personal accounts after his passing.
I have records of every transfer Garrick made.
Third—" Douglas paused.
"Julian left a second letter.
For Garrick.
He asked that I deliver it personally, at the right moment.
He left the timing to my discretion."
"What does the letter say?"
"I haven't opened it.
Julian sealed it.
But he told me its general purpose." Another pause.
"Mrs.
Vance, your husband loved your son.
He also understood exactly who your son had become.
The letter is not intended to punish.
It's intended to confront."
Upstairs, a door opened.
Footsteps moved toward the stairs.
"Mr.
Fenn," I said quickly, "can you come to the house?"
"I can be there this afternoon."
"Please." I kept my voice low.
"And Mr.
Fenn — Garrick doesn't know I've called you.
I'd like to keep it that way until you arrive."
"Understood completely," Douglas said.
"Julian told me you were steady.
He was right."
I ended the call.
I slid the folder back into the drawer, closed it, and stood up just as a knock landed on the study door.
"Mom?" Garrick's voice.
Softer now.
A different strategy.
"Can we talk?
I think we both said some things this morning that—"
"I'll be out in a minute," I said.
A beat of silence.
Then his footsteps moved away.
I looked at the framed photograph on Julian's desk — the two of us at Lake Travis, the summer Garrick turned twelve.
Julian's arm around my shoulders.
Garrick grinning between us, missing a front tooth, squinting into the sun.
I picked it up and looked at it for a long moment.
Then I set it face-down on the desk.
May you like
Not out of anger.
Just because I needed to think clearly for what was coming, and that boy in the photograph made it harder.
