Chapter 7 - CELIA’S SECRETCelia asked Everett to meet without Preston.
That immediately made him suspicious.
They sat in the sunroom the next morning.
Onyx remained in another room.
Celia looked exhausted.
“I need to tell you why I took the blue folder.”
“I’m listening.”
“I wasn’t trying to hide it from you.”
“Then why not bring it to me?”
“Because Preston checks my phone.”
Everett frowned.
“What?”
“He has for months.”
“Why?”
“He thinks I’m going to leave him.”
Everett studied her.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised him.
Celia continued.
“His investments are collapsing.”
“I know.”
“He borrowed against our house without telling me.”
Everett’s eyes narrowed.
Family pattern.
Preston had learned more from someone than Everett realized.
“How much?”
“Almost three million.”
“Did you sign?”
“I signed a refinancing document. I did not understand how far it went.”
She looked ashamed.
Everett did not comfort her.
He had learned not to confuse sympathy with facts.
“Why did you stay?”
“Two children.”
Preston and Celia’s children were at college and boarding school, away from the mansion.
“They’re nearly adults.”
“I know.”
Celia wiped her eyes.
“And I was scared.”
“Of Preston?”
“Of everything.”
Money.
Scandal.
Losing the home.
Family judgment.
Then she explained the blue folder.
She found it inside Preston’s locked cabinet because he accidentally left the key in his jacket.
She photographed every page.
Then removed the original after seeing the proposed capacity evaluations.
“Why hide it here?”
“I thought if I confronted Preston, he’d destroy it.”
“Why bring it to the mansion?”
“I wanted to put it in your study.”
Everett stared.
“You had multiple opportunities.”
“I know.”
“Instead you carried it during a party.”
“I panicked.”
He did not like that answer.
Then Celia said:
“Because Lorraine caught me with it.”
Everett stopped.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes before you came downstairs.”
“What happened?”
“She asked what I had.”
“And?”
“I lied.”
“Did she see the folder?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Celia’s voice became quieter.
“She told me to put it back.”
Everett’s jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“She said Preston was trying to protect the family.”
Lorraine knew.
At least about the folder.
Celia continued.
“I told her I was giving it to you.”
“What did she say?”
“She said if I did, Preston could go to prison.”
Everett stared.
“For what?”
“She didn’t explain.”
That was more dangerous than money.
Celia looked toward the door.
“I think there are documents you don’t know about.”
“Which?”
“Your signature.”
Everett felt cold.
Celia had seen loan papers tied to Preston’s fund.
A trust guarantee.
Purportedly signed by Everett.
He had never signed one.
“Do you have a copy?”
She took out her phone.
Photograph.
Everett enlarged it.
HOLLOWAY FAMILY TRUST — LIMITED GUARANTY
Maximum exposure:
$12 million.
Signature:
Everett Holloway.
Notarized.
He stared.
The signature looked excellent.
But wrong.
Everett always crossed the final T in Holloway? No T. Better his E maybe. He knew his own hand.
“That is not mine.”
Celia whispered:
“I know.”
“Who has the original?”
“Preston’s lender.”
Everett’s anger changed into something deeper.
The capacity petition now made financial sense.
If a lender discovered the guarantee was forged, Preston faced catastrophe.
If Everett became “incapacitated,” Lorraine could potentially ratify or replace certain obligations after becoming trustee.
Someone was not just trying to gain access to money.
They were trying to clean up a fraud already committed.
Everett asked:
“Did Preston forge this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he know?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I confronted him.”
“What did he say?”
“He said his mother handled the trust paperwork.”
Everett closed his eyes.
Lorraine.
Again.
Too often.
Yet that almost made him suspicious in the opposite direction.
Could everything point at her this perfectly?
“What did Preston tell you about the doctor?”
“Nothing.”
“The sedatives?”
“Nothing.”
“The phrase Onyx repeated?”
Celia shook her head.
Then hesitated.
Everett noticed.
“What?”
“The night before the party…”
“Yes?”
“I heard Lorraine on the phone.”
Everett’s pulse increased.
“What did she say?”
“I only heard part.”
“Say it.”
Celia looked directly at him.
“She said, ‘Tomorrow has to be the day.’”
Everett went still.
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“When she saw me, she ended the call.”
“Where was Onyx?”
Celia looked toward the staircase.
“Right beside her.”
Everett felt the room narrow.
But then Celia added:
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Preston came downstairs ten minutes later.”
“And?”
“He asked Lorraine if she had spoken to ‘him.’”
Everett frowned.
“Who is him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she answer?”
“Yes.”
Celia swallowed.
“She said, ‘He’ll do what we paid him to do.’”
Everett’s mind went immediately to Dr. Weller.
But Weller had not seemed corrupt.
Maybe he had been lied to.
Who else had been paid?
The lawyer?
Notary?
Someone at the company?
May you like
Everett’s own staff?
The conspiracy was wider than he thought.
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