Chapter 7: The Investigator's File
Carol moved quickly.
Within forty-eight hours, she had confirmed that Russell Holt was a licensed private investigator with a history of working for family law attorneys — and occasionally for private clients who wanted information without official channels.
He had no criminal record.
He was careful.
But Carol had dealt with his work before.
"He's good at finding old disputes and reframing them," she told me over the phone.
"He finds something technically true and builds a story around it that isn't.
The goal is usually to pressure the other party into settling rather than fighting."
"She wants me to give up the deed," I said.
"That would be my read.
She doesn't expect to win in court.
She expects you to get tired."
"I'm not tired."
"Good.
Keep that." A pause.
"I've also spoken with the attorney who handled Gerald's transfer.
He's fully prepared to testify if needed.
The cognitive assessment is airtight.
Patricia's legal challenge has almost no path forward on the merits."
"So why is she still pushing?"
"Because she's not finished looking for something else.
The Ohio property — I've reviewed the estate records you sent me.
The sale was clean.
The cousin dispute was settled and documented.
There's nothing there she can use legally." Carol paused again.
"But legally and publicly are two different things.
If she finds the cousin and gets him talking, she could create noise.
Not a case.
Just noise."
I thought about my cousin, Marcus.
We hadn't spoken since the settlement.
He had been angry — genuinely angry — and he had said things in the heat of it that he probably regretted.
But he had signed the agreement.
He had taken the money.
"I should call Marcus," I said.
"I was going to suggest that."
I called him that evening.
He picked up after four rings, cautious.
"Emily?"
"Hi, Marcus.
I know it's been a while."
"It has." A pause.
"Is something wrong?"
I told him.
Not everything — just enough.
That someone was looking into the estate sale.
That they might reach out to him.
That I wanted him to know before that happened.
Silence on the line.
"Someone already called me," he said.
My hand tightened on the phone.
"When?"
"Two days ago.
A man named Holt.
Said he was doing a background check for a legal matter and wanted to ask a few questions about the property sale." Another pause.
"I didn't tell him anything.
I said I'd need to speak to my own attorney before I talked to anyone.
He said that was fine and left his number."
"Marcus—"
"Emily, we didn't end things well.
I know that.
I said things I shouldn't have." His voice was careful, measured.
"But whatever happened between us, you handled that estate honestly.
I know that.
I was angry and I made it harder than it needed to be, and you still did everything right." A long pause.
"I'm not going to help someone build a case against you."
I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank me.
I should have called you years ago." He paused.
"Do you want me to call your attorney directly?"
"Yes," I said.
"Please."
I gave him Carol's number.
After I hung up, I sat at the kitchen table for a long moment.
Daniel came in from the other room and looked at my face.
"What happened?"
"Holt already contacted Marcus."
Daniel sat down across from me.
"And?"
"Marcus is on our side."
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, he looked older than he had a week ago.
"Emily.
I need to ask you something."
"Ask."
"Did you know — did you ever suspect — how bad it was?
With my mother?
Before Christmas?"
I looked at him carefully.
"I knew it was bad.
I didn't know how bad you knew it was."
He absorbed that.
"I told myself it was manageable.
That you were strong enough to handle it.
That if I made too big a deal of it, it would just make things worse." He looked at his hands.
"I was a coward."
"Yes," I said.
"You were."
He nodded.
He didn't argue.
"I'm not asking you to forgive everything at once," he said.
"I know I don't get to ask for that.
I just want to know if there's a way through this.
For us."
I didn't answer immediately.
Because the honest answer was: I didn't know yet.
And I wasn't going to pretend otherwise.
"Let's get through what's in front of us first," I said.
He nodded again.
It was enough, for now.
Three days later, Carol called with news.
"Patricia's attorney filed a motion this morning," she said.
"But there's something else.
Gerald has filed a counter-motion.
He's also formally requested a review of the power of attorney Patricia has been holding over two of his financial accounts."
I sat up straight.
"He has a power of attorney in place?"
"Had.
He's revoking it.
Apparently, he discovered last week that she used it to move funds from a joint investment account into an account in her name alone.
Twice.
In the past eighteen months."
The room was very quiet.
"She took his money," I said.
"It appears so.
Gerald's financial attorney is now involved.
This has become significantly larger than a deed dispute." A pause.
May you like
"Emily, I think Patricia was more afraid of that envelope than we realized.
And I think Gerald knows exactly why."
