Chapter 6: Patricia Hale Takes the Room
Patricia Hale was not what I expected.
She was small.
Neat gray blazer, reading glasses pushed up on her head, a coffee cup that looked like it had been refilled several times already.
She shook my hand once, firmly, and then turned her full attention to Brooke.
"Dana Colwell sent me forty-one files last night," she said, spreading a short stack of printed pages across the conference table.
"Texts, voice memos, two emails.
She's frightened and she's cooperating fully.
That's useful."
"Can we trust her?" I asked.
"We don't need to trust her.
We need her evidence to be verifiable, and it is." Patricia tapped one of the pages.
"This email here — Grant wrote it to Dana seven months ago.
He outlines, in his own words, the plan to have Brooke assessed by a private psychiatrist he'd already contacted.
He names the doctor."
Brooke looked at the page.
"Dr.
Raymond Fisk."
"You know him?"
"Grant mentioned him once.
Said he was an old colleague's contact.
I didn't think anything of it at the time."
Patricia set the page down.
"Dr.
Fisk has appeared as an expert witness in three prior divorce cases.
In two of them, he assessed the wife as having a personality disorder.
Both assessments were later challenged.
One was thrown out entirely." She looked at Brooke over the top of her glasses.
"Grant did his research.
He chose this man specifically."
Brooke's jaw tightened.
"What does that mean for us?"
"It means we include it in the fraud filing as evidence of premeditated intent to obstruct.
It's not just a forged deed anymore.
It's a documented scheme.
That changes the severity of what the DA's office is looking at."
I watched Brooke absorb this.
She didn't look frightened.
She looked focused.
"What about the house?" she asked.
"The emergency freeze went through this morning.
No assets can be transferred, sold, or encumbered until the court rules.
The fraudulent deed has been flagged by the county recorder's office.
Grant's attorney — and yes, he retained one this morning, a man named Clifford Marsh — has already contacted my office."
"What did Marsh say?"
Patricia almost smiled.
"He suggested that perhaps this was all a misunderstanding.
That Grant had believed the deed transfer was legitimate.
That his client was willing to discuss a quiet resolution."
"Meaning he wants this to go away," Brooke said.
"Meaning he knows his client is in serious trouble and would prefer to settle before criminal charges are formally filed." Patricia folded her hands.
"I told him we'd be in touch."
"Are we?" Brooke asked.
"Going to settle?"
"That depends on what you want." Patricia looked at her directly.
"I can get you the house, full restitution of documented financial contributions, and a clean divorce.
That's the quiet path.
It's faster.
It's certain."
"And the other path?"
"We push for criminal charges on the deed fraud.
The DA has enough.
If they file, Grant faces potential jail time, a permanent record, and the loss of his professional license depending on his field." She paused.
"It's slower.
It's harder.
And Grant will fight every inch of it."
Brooke was quiet for a moment.
"What would you do?" she asked.
Patricia picked up her coffee cup.
"I'd push," she said simply.
"Because men like Grant don't stop.
They find the next woman and they start again.
The quiet path protects you.
The other path protects someone you'll never meet."
Brooke looked at me.
I didn't say anything.
This was her decision.
She turned back to Patricia.
"Push," she said.
Patricia nodded once and reached for her pen.
May you like
That afternoon, Clifford Marsh received a letter that was not the response he had hoped for.
And two days later, Grant did exactly what Patricia had predicted he would do.
