Chapter 8 - Mavis Had Brought Thomas Into the FamilyMavis refused to speak without an attorney after that.
That told Reid enough.
He stopped confronting her.
For the first time since the camera incident, he let investigators work.
It was harder than rage.
Rage felt active.
Waiting felt like surrender.
He focused on Landon and Evan.
Evan had no serious injury.
A reddened cheek.
Feeding-related anxiety for several days.
His pediatrician recommended patience, routine, and no forced feeding.
Reid followed every instruction.
Landon became quieter.
He checked cameras repeatedly.
Doors.
Locks.
Whether Reid was home.
One night he asked:
“Can Mavis come back?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“Not while I’m responsible for you.”
Landon thought.
“What if papers say you aren’t?”
Reid felt the damage.
He sat beside him.
“That is why adults are fixing the papers.”
“But papers can lie.”
“Yes.”
Landon stared.
Reid hated that the answer was yes.
“So how do you know?”
“Because more than one person checks.”
“Like Beth?”
“Yes.”
“Judge?”
“If needed.”
“Police?”
“Yes.”
Landon nodded.
Then:
“Mom?”
Reid’s throat tightened.
“What about Mom?”
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she tell you?”
“I don’t know.”
Landon thought.
“Maybe she was going to.”
“Probably.”
It was the kindest answer available.
The next morning Beth arrived with a box of old corporate files.
Thomas’s history was stranger than expected.
His father William Keene helped Everett Mercer build the original manufacturing business.
William owned twelve percent.
During a recession, the company nearly failed.
Everett injected personal cash.
William could not.
A shareholder agreement allowed dilution.
William’s stake dropped below three percent.
He later claimed Everett structured the rescue intentionally to push him out.
The lawsuit settled.
William received $1.8 million.
Not nothing.
But the company later became worth billions.
The Keene family spent years believing Everett stole their future.
Thomas went to law school.
Then unexpectedly joined a firm representing Mavis Rourke, who at that time was a wealthy-event fundraiser and Everett’s girlfriend.
She helped introduce Thomas back into Mercer circles.
“Why?” Reid asked.
Beth had a theory.
“Shared resentment.”
Mavis married Everett believing she would become wealthy through his estate.
But Everett’s prenuptial agreement was strict.
She received lifetime housing rights in the Westport estate and a significant annual stipend.
The controlling assets went to Reid, Nolan, and eventually grandchildren.
Mavis was comfortable.
Not powerful.
Beth found a letter from William Keene to Thomas.
You will never get justice from a Mercer by asking.
Reid closed his eyes.
Family resentment passing like inheritance.
“Does that prove Thomas altered anything?”
“No.”
Then Beth smiled without humor.
“But Dana’s files might.”
Dana had delivered three years of emails.
One thread stood out.
Thomas to Nolan, six months earlier:
The independent-fiduciary clause is an obstacle. There may be an argument that later family governance documents supersede it.
Nolan:
Can we make that argument?
Thomas:
Not with the current paper trail.
Mavis replied from a private email:
Then create a cleaner paper trail.
Reid stared.
Thomas answered:
We need to discuss in person.
No refusal.
No outrage.
Just discussion.
Another email three weeks later included a redlined trust document.
The independent fiduciary language had disappeared.
Nolan’s name appeared.
Dana wrote privately to Nolan:
This is not the executed trust.
Nolan responded:
Thomas says it reflects intended family governance.
Dana:
It doesn’t say DRAFT.
Nolan:
Then don’t circulate it outside the team.
Reid sat back.
Nolan knew.
Maybe not forged signature.
But altered trust?
Yes.
Beth said:
“This is enough for a court to take seriously.”
Reid asked:
“Why keep the fake trust at all?”
“Because the guardianship petition by itself doesn’t give Nolan corporate voting authority.”
“The altered clause connects them.”
“Yes.”
“So taking my children was the gateway to the company.”
Beth nodded.
Then another email surfaced.
Thomas to Mavis:
The paternity route is cleaner for Evan but not Landon. Unless both beneficiaries can be challenged, guardianship remains preferable.
Reid felt nausea.
“Paternity route.”
Mavis had called Evan a bastard.
Not spontaneous cruelty.
Part of a legal strategy she had discussed.
Beth continued reading.
Mavis:
Landon is more difficult. He remembers too much.
Reid’s blood turned cold.
“What does that mean?”
Beth didn’t know.
The email was from four months earlier.
Before Landon started his written notes.
What could a nine-year-old remember that threatened adults?
Reid asked Landon that afternoon.
“Did Mavis ever ask you about Grandpa Everett?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“She asked if Grandpa gave me anything.”
Reid frowned.
“Did he?”
Landon hesitated.
Then went upstairs.
Returned with a children’s book.
The Wind in the Willows.
Old hardcover.
Everett used to read it with him.
Landon opened the back cover.
A small envelope was taped inside.
Reid stared.
“When did Grandpa give you this?”
“Before he went to the hospital.”
“What did he say?”
“To give it to Mom if grown-ups started fighting about the house.”
Reid’s pulse accelerated.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you have it?”
“Mom gave it back.”
“When?”
“Before Evan was born.”
“What did she say?”
Landon thought.
“She said if she ever asked for it, bring it.”
“And she never asked.”
“No.”
Reid opened the envelope.
Inside was not money.
Not a will.
A USB drive.
May you like
And a handwritten note from Everett Mercer.
If Mavis or Nolan ever tells Reid that the children’s trust gives them control, play this first.
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