Chapter 10 - THE LAWYER WHO SOLD MY DEFENSE
Gregory Pike had charged me $185,000 to defend me.
Then secretly accepted $250,000 from a consulting entity tied to Marion.
The payment occurred three weeks before trial.
His son Evan worked for the private forensic contractor used by prosecutors.
Conflict after conflict.
Hidden.
Dirty.
Devastating.
But proving corruption required more than suspicious transfers.
Harold had something better.
His original vulnerability report contained a test script capable of simulating logins from my workstation.
Chad had a copy.
Evan Pike used nearly identical code while imaging my computer.
The timestamps matched manipulated events introduced after seizure.
Federal prosecutors moved quickly.
My conviction was not erased instantly.
But the judgment was vacated pending retrial based on tainted forensic evidence, undisclosed conflicts, and newly discovered exculpatory material.
For the first time since the courthouse, I was legally free to go home without a transport officer.
Except I no longer had a home.
Mom owned it.
On paper.
Nina smiled when I said that.
“Not for long.”
The townhouse sale was frozen.
The power of attorney challenged.
The purchase funds traced to fraud proceeds.
Brenda’s notarization under criminal review.
Everything Chad had celebrated began collapsing simultaneously.
Then Westbridge’s board issued a statement.
I had been placed on administrative leave when charged.
Now they wanted to discuss reinstatement.
I declined.
Not forever.
For now.
I needed Toby.
Sleep.
Therapy.
Space.
Christopher understood.
He did not offer me a mansion.
Instead, he handed me keys to a small furnished house near Toby’s school.
“Owned by who?”
“You.”
I stared.
“No.”
“Then lease it from me for one dollar.”
I smiled despite myself.
“Market rate.”
He sighed.
“You are painfully related to me.”
Progress.
Then Chad requested to speak through his attorney.
I refused.
He sent a letter instead.
GENEVIEVE, YOUR MOTHER SET THIS UP BEFORE BRENDA AND I WERE EVER TOGETHER. I DIDN’T KNOW SHE WOULD SEND YOU TO PRISON.
I nearly tore it.
Then one line stopped me.
ASK CHRISTOPHER WHAT HE PROMISED MARION WHEN YOU WERE BORN.
I showed my father.
He read it.
His face changed.
“What did you promise her?”
He sat down.
“That I would never seek custody of you.”
“Why?”
“Because she threatened to expose something.”
“What?”
Christopher looked at Frank.
Frank looked away.
Then my father whispered:
“The Phoenix land wasn’t originally mine.”
“Whose was it?”
May you like
He answered:
“Michael Hart’s family.”
