Chapter 7: Daniel at the Door
Daniel Holt was taller than Marcus had expected.
He filled the doorframe — broad-shouldered, mid-thirties, wearing a jacket that looked like it had been put on in a hurry.
He had the expression of a man who had rehearsed confidence on the drive over and was now discovering that confidence was harder to maintain when the person opening the door was not Maya.
He looked at Marcus.
Marcus looked back at him.
A full three seconds passed.
"I'm looking for Maya," Daniel said.
"I know who you're looking for," Marcus said.
"Come in."
Something shifted in Daniel's expression.
The rehearsed confidence dropped a fraction.
"I don't think—"
"Come in, Daniel." Marcus stepped aside and held the door open.
"We've been expecting you."
Daniel stepped inside.
His eyes moved quickly across the room — Arthur on the sofa, Helen at the coffee table with a notebook and photographed documents laid out in front of her, Maya in the armchair with her face turned away.
He stopped walking.
"Sit down," Marcus said, closing the front door behind him.
"I'm not going to—" Daniel glanced at Helen.
"Who are you?"
"Helen Hargrove.
I'm Arthur Webb's attorney." She looked at him over her reading glasses.
"And you would be Daniel Holt.
The paralegal who prepared these documents." She held up one of the pages between two fingers.
Daniel looked at the page.
His face changed.
"I've already been in contact with the bar association's intake line," Helen said.
"I'll be filing a formal complaint tomorrow morning.
The preparation of fraudulent trust transfer documents by a paralegal, for personal financial gain, in coordination with a third party — that's not a grey area, Mr.
Holt.
That's the end of a career."
Daniel turned to Maya.
"You told me the old man—"
"Don't," Maya said without looking at him.
"You told me he never paid attention.
You told me the son was never home.
You said it would be—"
"I said don't." Her voice came out sharp and brittle.
"Easy?" Marcus offered.
"Is that the word you were looking for?"
Daniel looked at him.
His jaw was working.
"You texted her this afternoon," Marcus said.
"Is he gone yet.
That was the question." He kept his voice level.
"My father is seventy-one years old.
He was alone in this house with your plan in motion and you wanted to know if he was gone yet." Marcus took one step toward him.
"I need you to understand something.
Whatever happens with the attorneys and the bar association and law enforcement — and all of that is going to happen, Daniel, all of it — none of that touches what I'm telling you right now, which is this: if you ever come near my father again, the legal process will be the least of your concerns."
Daniel's chin came up.
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a fact." Marcus held his gaze.
"Now sit down, or leave.
Those are your two options."
A long moment passed.
Daniel looked at Maya one more time.
She was still looking at the floor.
She didn't look up.
She didn't say his name.
She didn't do anything.
His shoulders dropped slightly.
He sat down.
Helen picked up her pen.
"Mr.
Holt," she said, "I'm going to ask you some questions.
You are not obligated to answer them.
However, I'd like to point out that full cooperation at this stage tends to be viewed more favorably than the alternative." She looked at him over her glasses.
"Your choice."
Daniel looked at his hands in his lap.
"The account number on page four of these documents," Helen said.
"Who gave you that number?"
A long silence.
"She did," he said finally.
Without looking at Maya.
Maya made a sound — barely audible, almost nothing.
But Marcus heard it.
He walked to the window and stood with his back to all of them, looking out at the evening light settling over the street.
Behind him, Helen continued asking questions.
Daniel continued answering them.
Arthur sat quietly, his hands folded, his jaw bruised, his expression neither triumphant nor devastated.
Just tired, Marcus thought.
His father looked tired in the deep way that comes not from one bad day but from carrying something heavy for a very long time without once putting it down.
Marcus made a decision standing at that window.
He turned back around.
"Helen," he said.
She looked up.
"Add to the formal record that I will be pressing charges for elder financial @buse.
In my father's name and on his behalf." He looked at his father.
"If that's what you want, Dad."
Arthur looked at him.
"Tell me what you want," Marcus said.
"Whatever it is, I'll do it.
But tell me."
Arthur was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, "I want them both held accountable.
Not for me.
May you like
For the next family they would have done this to."
Helen wrote that down.
