Chapter 6
I had not trusted Marcus since we were teenagers.
My grandfather loved both of us, but Marcus spent most of his life measuring affection in dollars.
If Granddad bought me a birthday present, Marcus wanted to know the price.
If I received praise, Marcus wanted to know what he would receive in return.
When Everett died, Marcus cried at the funeral.
Three days later, he asked Evelyn when the will would be read.
Now he wanted to talk.
Naomi told me not to respond until she could be present.
I agreed.
An hour later, Marcus called Evelyn directly.
He wanted immunity.
Evelyn's eyebrows rose when she told us.
“Immunity from what?” I asked.
“He didn't say.”
“Then he doesn't get anything.”
Naomi nodded.
“He may be bluffing.”
My phone vibrated again.
A photograph arrived from Marcus.
It showed Grant sitting across from him at a restaurant.
The date stamp was four months old.
Before my grandfather died.
My blood ran cold.
Grant had been meeting with Marcus while Everett was still alive.
Below the photograph was a message.
Grant played both of us.
I stared at it.
“Set up the call.”
Naomi recorded with Marcus's consent.
He sounded exhausted.
“Tessa.”
“Talk.”
No greeting.
No family warmth.
I was done pretending.
Marcus exhaled.
“Grant contacted me in April.”
“How?”
“He said he wanted advice about Everett's estate planning.”
“Why would you know anything?”
“I didn't. Not much.”
“That didn't stop you.”
“No.”
At least he admitted it.
Marcus continued.
“Grant told me Everett planned to leave you almost everything.”
“How did he know?”
“He saw an email.”
My jaw tightened.
“What email?”
“Something from Pierce & Lowe. You had left your laptop open.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She shook her head.
Our emails never stated exact amounts.
Marcus continued.
“He thought the trust might be worth ten million. I told him maybe more.”
“And then?”
“He asked how inheritance works during divorce.”
Sophia had said the same.
I felt sick.
“So you helped him.”
“I answered questions.”
“You helped him.”
Marcus didn't respond.
I repeated it.
“You helped my husband plan how to take my inheritance.”
His voice cracked.
“I was angry.”
“At me?”
“At Everett.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me he was changing my distribution.”
Evelyn frowned.
Marcus explained.
“Granddad found out I had gambling debts. He said he wasn't giving me unrestricted access to money I would burn through. I blamed you.”
I almost laughed.
“You blamed me for your gambling?”
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds exactly like what happened.”
Silence.
Then Marcus said, “Grant told me if I helped prove you'd commingled the inheritance with marital assets, he'd make sure I got a piece.”
Naomi leaned forward.
“How?”
Marcus heard her.
“Who's that?”
“My attorney.”
“Great.”
“Answer.”
“He wanted Tessa to sign an authorization giving him financial management rights.”
“The forged one?”
“I didn't know he would forge it.”
“But you gave him information.”
“Yes.”
My fingers went numb.
“What information?”
“The trust administrator. The likely value. The expected finalization date.”
That explained everything.
Grant had not thrown me out impulsively.
He had selected that night.
He knew the trust might finalize before his divorce filing.
He needed my signature first.
My labor had interrupted his plan.
“Why did you withdraw your probate objection yesterday?” I asked.
Marcus went quiet.
“Because Grant threatened me.”
Naomi's expression sharpened.
“With what?”
“He recorded our conversations.”
Of course he had.
“What did he threaten to expose?”
“My gambling. Debts. Some loans I took from my father's company.”
I leaned back.
“So you withdrew the objection because he wanted the trust finalized.”
“Yes.”
The pieces clicked together.
Grant had needed finalization.
Then he planned to use the forged authorization and separation agreement to claim control or leverage.
“Why tell me now?”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“Because he never planned to pay me.”
Not remorse.
Self-interest.
I should have expected that.
“He told me this morning I was finished. Said if I spoke, he'd send everything to my father.”
Naomi asked, “Do you have messages from Grant?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“A lot.”
“Preserve them.”
Marcus hesitated.
“There's more.”
I closed my eyes.
“There always is.”
“Grant asked me whether Everett had life insurance on you.”
My eyes opened.
The room changed.
Even Naomi stopped writing.
“What?”
“He asked about beneficiary structures.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
My skin went cold.
“Exactly what did he say?”
Marcus swallowed audibly.
“He said, ‘If Tessa died before the divorce, would I inherit her trust?’”
Elise stood so fast her chair scraped backward.
Naomi raised one hand.
“Marcus, do not exaggerate.”
“I'm not.”
“Do you have that in writing?”
“No. He asked over drinks.”
I couldn't breathe normally.
Grant had said babies ruin marriages.
Sophia had told us he would “find a way” not to raise Everly.
Now Marcus claimed Grant had asked what happened if I died before divorce.
It was not evidence of a crime.
It was not proof of intent.
But suddenly being thrown into a storm while suffering dangerous blood pressure felt different.
I remembered Grant refusing to drive me.
Not tonight.
I have somewhere to be.
You'll be fine.
Women have babies alone all the time.
Had he simply been cruel?
Or had he known refusing medical care could endanger me?
I hated where my thoughts were going.
Naomi saw it.
“Tessa, we don't assume. We investigate.”
I nodded.
She was right.
We needed facts.
Marcus spoke again.
“There is one thing I can prove.”
“What?”
“Grant wanted access to your medical information.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“He asked me whether I knew your grandfather's old physician. Then he asked if high blood pressure during pregnancy could become fatal.”
Elise whispered, “Jesus.”
Marcus rushed on.
“I thought he was worried about you.”
“No, you didn't.”
He went silent.
“You thought you were making money.”
“Tessa—”
I ended the call.
I could not hear another word.
For several minutes, only Everly's breathing filled the room.
Then Naomi's phone rang.
She checked the number.
“It's the police officer from earlier.”
She answered.
Listened.
Her face changed.
“What?”
I sat straighter.
Naomi looked at me.
“Grant reported another incident.”
I almost laughed.
“What now?”
She covered the receiver.
“He claims you accessed his business accounts and transferred seventy-five thousand dollars.”
I stared at her.
“I didn't.”
“I know.”
“But someone did.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
I thought of Grant's confidence.
His urgency.
His desperate need for my signature.
Then another possibility hit me.
“What if he transferred it himself?”
Naomi nodded slowly.
“To make it look like you stole it.”
Evelyn's phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Then held the screen toward us.
A bank security alert had been forwarded by the trust administrator.
Someone had tried to use the forged authorization again.
Ten minutes earlier.
While Grant believed I was recovering in a hospital bed.
This time, the request wasn't for information.
May you like
It was for money.
Two million dollars.
