Chapter 6: Everett Calls from London
She didn't answer it.
She stood there and watched his name flash twice, three times, then go dark.
I picked up my coffee cup and waited.
A minute later, my own phone rang.
I looked at the screen, then at Shirley.
"Excuse me," I said, and walked out of the kitchen into the hallway.
"Stella." Everett's voice was different from the last time.
Tighter.
The careful pleasantness was gone.
"What is going on?"
"Good morning," I said.
"Don't.
My attorney called me an hour ago.
He said Patricia Hale filed a petition yesterday.
A divorce petition."
"That's right."
"Stella—" A pause.
I could hear the effort it took him to modulate his tone.
"Whatever you think is happening, you don't have the full picture."
"I have three years of bank statements," I said.
"I have the Hargrove account records.
I have the Delaware filing for the shell company.
I have the Lumina Jewelers transaction from the morning you left." I paused.
"I have your mother's signature on the beneficiary form."
The silence on his end lasted long enough that I checked the screen to confirm the call was still connected.
"That account," he said finally, "is a private investment vehicle.
It has nothing to do with—"
"Everett," I said.
"Delia Marsh has been living in a flat in Kensington for three years.
The lease is paid by Hargrove Capital LLC.
Hargrove Capital LLC shares a registered agent with your Delaware holding company.
I know what it is."
Another silence.
When he spoke again, the careful tone was completely gone.
"You have no idea what you're doing," he said.
"That money is tied to a business arrangement that took years to structure.
If you interfere with it, you won't just hurt me — you'll destroy something that was meant to protect both of us."
"Protect us," I repeated.
"There are people involved in that structure who don't respond well to disruption.
I'm serious, Stella.
This is not the kind of thing you pull at from a distance and walk away from clean."
I felt it then — the first cold edge of something that wasn't anger.
He wasn't just defending himself.
He was warning me.
"Are you telling me," I said slowly, "that there are people connected to this account who could be a problem?"
"I'm telling you to stop.
Talk to me before you do anything else.
Let me explain it properly."
"Then explain it now."
"Not on the phone."
"You're in London."
"I can be back in three days."
"The filing is already submitted, Everett."
"Then un-submit it." His voice cracked slightly at the edges.
"Stella.
Please.
You don't know everything yet."
"Then tell me the one thing I'm missing."
A long pause.
"Delia," he said.
"She isn't just someone I was seeing."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"Then what is she?" I said.
He didn't answer.
"Everett.
What is Delia Marsh to you?"
May you like
The line went quiet for three full seconds.
"She's my daughter," he said.
