Chapter 3 - Landon Had Been Keeping NotesReid did not sleep that night.
Neither did Landon.
At 1:17 a.m., Reid found his son sitting on the kitchen floor beside Ivory? No dog in this story. Need consistency. Let's avoid. He found him beside the refrigerator with a glass of water.
“You okay?”
Landon nodded automatically.
Reid recognized the lie.
He sat beside him.
The marble floor was cold.
“You don’t have to be okay.”
Landon stared at the water.
“Is Mavis going to jail?”
“I don’t know.”
“Because I turned the camera on?”
“No.”
Landon looked up.
“What?”
“Whatever happens is because of what adults chose to do.”
He paused.
“You turning on the camera just let me see it.”
Landon nodded.
Then reached into the pocket of his pajama pants.
He pulled out a small folded piece of paper.
“What’s that?”
“My list.”
Reid opened it.
Dates.
Short notes.
June 14 — Mavis said Dad forgets things.
June 19 — picture of Evan crying.
June 22 — Mavis told me not to tell Dad she took us to doctor.
July 3 — man at school.
July 11 — Mavis asked what Dad drinks at night.
July 17 — Nolan came when Dad was gone.
July 29 — Mavis went in Dad’s office.
Reid stared.
“You wrote all this?”
Landon nodded.
“Why?”
“Mom used to say write stuff down when grown-ups tell different stories.”
Reid’s throat tightened.
Nora.
She had taught Landon to keep a homework notebook because he was forgetful.
Apparently the lesson had expanded.
“What happened July seventeenth?”
“Nolan came after dinner.”
“What did he do?”
“Talked to Mavis.”
“About?”
“I don’t know.”
Landon hesitated.
“I heard my name.”
“And Evan’s?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“Something about shares.”
Reid closed his eyes.
Children should not know that word from listening outside doors.
“Where were they?”
“Library.”
“Were you listening?”
“I was getting my book.”
Reid almost corrected him.
Then stopped.
“Anything you remember?”
Landon frowned.
“Nolan said you were being emotional.”
Reid felt anger.
“He said if the board vote waited too long, everybody loses.”
“What did Mavis say?”
“She said she could make you look worse.”
Silence.
Reid turned slowly.
“Exactly those words?”
“I think.”
“Anything else?”
Landon nodded.
“She said people already believe dads who lose their wives fall apart.”
Reid looked away.
His grief had become leverage.
He had spent months ashamed of not functioning perfectly after Nora died.
Now someone had turned that shame into a legal strategy.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Landon’s eyes filled.
“You were sad.”
Reid felt as if someone had struck him.
“You thought you had to protect me.”
Landon shrugged.
That was yes.
Reid pulled him close.
“No more.”
“What?”
“You’re nine.”
“I know.”
“You don’t protect me from adult problems.”
Landon looked skeptical.
“What if you’re sad?”
“Then I get help from adults.”
“Like who?”
Reid almost said Mavis.
The irony hurt.
“Beth. Aunt Camille. Dr. Reyes. My therapist.”
He looked at Landon.
“Not you.”
Landon nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
Then he reached into his pocket again.
Another object.
A small brass key.
Reid frowned.
“Where did you get that?”
“Mavis dropped it.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Where?”
“Dad’s office.”
Reid stared.
Landon continued.
“She went in when you were in New York last week.”
“I thought you said July twenty-ninth.”
“That too.”
“How often does she go into my office?”
“Lots.”
Reid’s stomach tightened.
His home office contained family records.
Tax files.
Copies of his father’s trust.
His late wife’s paperwork.
Medical documents.
The locked bottom drawer used a small brass key.
Reid stood.
“Come on.”
They went upstairs.
The office door was sealed with police evidence tape around one drawer because investigators had collected the blue-folder-related materials.
But his document cabinet had not been touched.
Reid used Landon’s key.
It fit.
Inside, several folders were missing.
Nora’s estate file.
Landon and Evan’s birth certificates.
Copies of Reid’s passport.
Tax returns.
Exactly the documents someone would need to construct convincing legal filings.
Reid called Beth.
She answered sleepily.
“What?”
“More documents are missing.”
She became alert immediately.
“What?”
He listed them.
“Don’t touch anything else.”
“Landon found the key.”
Silence.
Beth said:
“Reid, we need a forensic review of every account and document Mavis could access.”
“I know.”
“And freeze the trust vote.”
“I already called corporate counsel.”
“Not Nolan.”
“No.”
“Good.”
Reid looked at his son.
Landon sat in Reid’s office chair, suddenly looking very small.
Beth continued:
“One other thing.”
“What?”
“I checked the notary stamp.”
Reid waited.
“It belongs to a real notary.”
“Who?”
“Dana Holloway.”
“Do I know her?”
“You might.”
Beth paused.
“She works at Mercer Dynamics.”
Reid’s stomach tightened.
“For Nolan?”
“Directly.”
Dana was Nolan’s executive assistant.
The forged signature had not come from some outside scammer.
It came from inside the family company.
Beth continued:
“And I found something else in the court filing metadata.”
“What?”
“The petition wasn’t drafted by a random attorney.”
Reid’s pulse accelerated.
“Who?”
“The document template belongs to Keene & March.”
Reid stopped.
Thomas Keene.
The Mercer family attorney.
The man who had drafted Everett Mercer’s will.
The man who held Nora’s estate documents.
The man Reid had trusted since he was twenty-three.
May you like
Beth’s voice dropped.
“Someone inside your own legal team prepared the papers.”
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