Chapter 4 - The Missing Paper
Margaret did not call out.
She reached into her handbag and gripped her phone.
The lodge was supposed to be empty.
Grant and Elise were at the hospital.
Thomas was with them.
The housekeeper had been given the evening off.
Another creak sounded above.
Margaret moved toward the staircase.
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
She climbed three steps.
Then a figure appeared at the top.
It was not a burglar.
It was Thomas’s attorney, Rebecca Sloan.
Margaret stopped.
Rebecca was sixty, sharply dressed, calm under pressure and almost impossible to intimidate.
“What are you doing in my house?”
Rebecca descended slowly.
“Thomas asked me to retrieve documents.”
“At midnight?”
“It’s nine thirty.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
Rebecca held a leather folder.
“What documents?”
“Ones belonging to my client.”
“My husband.”
“My client.”
Margaret noticed the lower corner of a paper sticking from the folder.
Mercer Ridge letterhead.
“You went through Thomas’s desk?”
“With his authorization.”
Margaret smiled coldly.
“You lawyers have an amazing ability to make trespassing sound respectable.”
Rebecca reached the bottom step.
“And you have an amazing ability to sound calm after your granddaughter fell off a cliff.”
Margaret’s smile disappeared.
“Get out.”
Rebecca walked past her.
Margaret stepped in front of the door.
“What did you take?”
“Move.”
“I asked you a question.”
“And I’m declining to answer.”
Margaret looked at the folder.
Rebecca followed her gaze.
For the first time, Margaret showed uncertainty.
Rebecca saw it.
“You’re worried about something specific.”
Margaret opened the door.
“Leave.”
Rebecca did.
Ten minutes later she was on the phone with Thomas.
“I found the unsigned original.”
Thomas sat alone in a hospital conference room.
“Where?”
“Inside the false bottom of your desk drawer.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
Months earlier, he had hidden the original purchase-option paperwork after telling Margaret the deal was dead.
“What else?”
“A second version.”
Thomas straightened.
“Signed?”
“Yes.”
He went silent.
Rebecca continued.
“The signature looks like yours.”
“It isn’t.”
“I know.”
“The notarization?”
“Also present.”
Thomas stood.
“I never signed that document.”
“Then someone created a forged execution copy.”
Thomas thought of Hailey.
Practicing his signature.
“Rebecca, lock everything in your office safe.”
“Already planned.”
“And don’t tell Margaret what you found.”
There was a pause.
“I saw her at the lodge.”
Thomas’s hand tightened around the phone.
“She was there?”
“Yes.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be.”
“She wanted to know what I took.”
Thomas stared through the conference-room glass at Hailey’s hospital room.
“Did you tell her?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Rebecca hesitated.
“Thomas, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“The option agreement contains a sixty-day closing clause.”
Thomas frowned.
“That’s impossible.”
“It says the buyer can trigger closing immediately upon confirmation of title.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
Thomas felt a chill.
Margaret had not merely been preparing a forgery.
She had already delivered it.
If the forged option was accepted as legitimate, the development consortium could attempt to enforce the sale.
Twenty-eight million dollars would flow into Mercer Ridge Development LLC.
A company account Margaret controlled jointly with Thomas.
“Freeze the account,” Thomas said.
“I can’t.”
“You’re my attorney.”
“The bank won’t freeze a corporate account because one shareholder is suspicious. We need an injunction or law-enforcement action.”
“Then get one.”
Rebecca lowered her voice.
“Thomas, you also need to consider your estate documents.”
“What about them?”
“The sale option isn’t the only file that appears to have been altered.”
Thomas stared at the table.
“What did you find?”
“A copy of your family trust amendment.”
His stomach tightened.
“I never amended the trust.”
“I know.”
“What does it say?”
Rebecca took a breath.
“It removes Grant as successor trustee.”
Thomas froze.
“And replaces him with Margaret.”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Rebecca looked at the document.
“It changes the distribution if Hailey dies before receiving her beneficial interest.”
Thomas stopped moving.
“Say that again.”
“In your actual trust, Hailey’s interest passes to Grant if she dies before age twenty-five.”
Thomas remembered signing it.
“And the altered version?”
Rebecca’s voice became quieter.
“It passes her interest into a marital trust controlled entirely by Margaret.”
For several seconds, Thomas heard only the hum of the hospital ventilation system.
The forged sale.
The forged trust.
The cliff.
Hailey.
He pressed one hand against the wall.
“This wasn’t panic,” he whispered.
Rebecca said nothing.
Thomas’s voice broke.
“She planned it.”
Behind him, Grant had opened the conference-room door.
Thomas turned.
His son’s face was pale.
“How much did I just hear?”
Thomas looked at him.
“Enough.”
Grant stepped inside.
“My mother changed the trust?”
“She tried.”
“And if Hailey died…”
Thomas could not finish.
Grant did.
“Mom would get control.”
Neither man spoke.
Grant suddenly slammed his fist against the table.
“I defended her.”
“Grant—”
“I defended her when Hailey said she pushed her.”
“You were in shock.”
“I hesitated.”
His eyes filled with shame.
“My daughter looked at me and asked if I believed her, and I hesitated.”
Thomas walked toward him.
“You can’t change those five seconds.”
Grant looked at his father.
“But I can change what I do next.”
Thomas nodded.
They went back to Hailey’s room.
She was asleep.
Elise sat beside her.
A sheriff’s deputy entered moments later.
“Mr. Mercer?”
“Yes?”
“We need you downstairs.”
“Why?”
The deputy hesitated.
“Your wife’s vehicle was just located at the family lodge.”
Thomas frowned.
“She’s there.”
“No, sir.”
The deputy looked directly at him.
May you like
“The vehicle is there.”
“But Mrs. Mercer is gone.”
