Chapter 9: The Woman in the Gold Dress
I walked to the far end of Cecelia's kitchen and kept my voice low.
"How did you get this number?"
"Grant gave it to me a long time ago." A small pause.
"I want you to know I had nothing to do with the car outside your aunt's house.
That was Marcus acting beyond his instructions.
I've already told Grant it was a mistake."
"You're calling to manage the situation," I said.
"I'm calling because I think you and I are more alike than you realize." Her voice was careful.
Practiced.
"We're both women who were handed very little and had to build something from nothing.
I respect what you're doing.
I genuinely do."
"You forged my signature."
A beat.
"That was Grant's decision.
I advised against it."
"You're listed as my daughter's legal guardian."
"Also Grant's decision.
I never intended to exercise that designation.
It was leverage — against the Kingsley board, not against you."
"You helped him take out a policy on my father."
The pause this time was longer.
"That," she said, "is more complicated."
"Explain it."
"Your father was already ill, Mrs.
Mercer.
The policy was taken out after his diagnosis.
It was financial planning, not—" She stopped.
"Not what?"
"Not what you're implying."
I looked through the kitchen doorway.
Cecelia was at the table, writing.
Ellie was asleep on the sofa, one arm around a stuffed rabbit.
"Viveca." I kept my voice very steady.
"I have the recording from this afternoon.
I have the payment records for Dr.
Crane and for Sasha Mercer.
I have the photograph of Grant with Councilman Hargrove.
I have a private investigator sitting in a sheriff's unit right now who has seventeen documented calls to Grant's phone." I paused.
"What exactly are you offering me?"
Another silence.
"I can give you Grant," she said.
"Everything.
His communications, his financial records, the original plan documents.
All of it."
"In exchange for what?"
"Consideration.
In whatever legal process follows."
"You want me to tell the state attorney you cooperated."
"I want to not spend the rest of my life in a courtroom."
I thought about the woman in the gold dress.
The laugh in the hotel lobby.
The hand holding Grant's as if she were the wife.
"Here's what I'll do," I said.
"You send everything you have to Daniel Holt at Kingsley Family Legal within twenty-four hours.
Every document, every communication, every file.
You make a full voluntary statement.
And I will tell the state attorney that you provided material cooperation." I paused.
"But I will not protect you from consequences you earned.
I'll only tell the truth about what you gave me."
A long silence.
"That's less than I hoped for," she said.
"It's more than you deserve."
She was quiet for another moment.
"The plan was never to hurt Ellie," she said finally.
"I want you to know that."
"She was three years old," I said.
"You filed to become her legal guardian.
You parked a car outside her great-aunt's house." My voice stayed level.
"Don't tell me what the plan was.
Send the documents."
I ended the call.
I stood in the kitchen for a moment with the phone in my hand.
Then I walked back to the table and sat down next to Cecelia.
"Who was that?" she asked.
"The woman in the gold dress."
Cecelia looked at me.
"She's going to cooperate," I said.
Cecelia set down her pen.
"Your father would have handled that exactly the same way."
I looked at Ellie on the sofa — the small rise and fall of her breathing, the stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm.
"He taught me," I said.
Cecelia picked up her pen again and kept writing.
Outside, the sheriff's unit was still parked down the street.
The sedan was gone.
My phone buzzed one more time.
Daniel: *Grant's attorney just filed an emergency motion to reinstate his Kingsley system access.
Hearing is set for 9 a.m.
tomorrow.
Judge assigned: the Honorable Warren Briggs.*
I looked up the name.
Warren Briggs did not sit on the family court oversight committee.
He sat on the criminal bench.
May you like
Grant's attorney had filed in the wrong court.
Or someone had made sure of it.
