Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO CAME BACK FOR MONEY
I had imagined confronting Veronica a hundred different ways.
None of them happened.
Instead, she came to me.
At 2:15 that afternoon, a white Mercedes stopped outside Alder Street.
Veronica stepped out wearing camel-colored boots, a cream coat, and the same effortless beauty that had intimidated me eight years earlier when I first saw her photograph.
She knocked.
I did not open the door.
“What do you want?”
She looked toward the doorbell camera.
“To talk.”
“Call my attorney.”
“This isn't about lawyers.”
“It became about lawyers when somebody forged Ben's signature.”
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
Enough.
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“I know the file was created under your name.”
Silence.
Then she smiled.
“You always were organized.”
I opened the door but left the chain attached.
“Say what you came to say.”
She looked past me.
“So Ruth really gave you this place.”
“She didn't give it to me.”
“You're trustee.”
“Yes.”
Veronica laughed quietly.
“Of course.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Ruth finally got what she wanted.”
I waited.
“She never liked me.”
“She didn't trust you.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
I looked directly at her.
“People can dislike you unfairly. Distrust usually has evidence.”
Her smile disappeared.
“You think you're very important to those children.”
“I think they are important to me.”
“I'm their mother.”
“Yes.”
The word surprised her.
I continued:
“Biology isn't something I'm competing with.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because Gavin chose me.”
There it was.
Not the kids.
Gavin.
Competition.
I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“You can have Gavin.”
Her expression flickered.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not fighting for him.”
“That isn't what he thinks.”
“I don't care what he thinks.”
For the first time, Veronica looked uncertain.
Then she lowered her voice.
“Walk away from the trust.”
“No.”
“You don't understand what you're involved in.”
“Then explain.”
She glanced toward the street.
“Ruth's properties aren't worth three million.”
My pulse changed.
“How much?”
Veronica smiled.
“Ask her about Milford.”
The land.
Mr. Keene had mentioned it.
“What about it?”
“She bought twenty-seven acres forty years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what's under it?”
I stared.
Veronica stepped closer to the door.
“Neither does Gavin.”
“What?”
“That’s why Ruth hid everything.”
Then a car appeared at the corner.
Veronica looked back.
Her face went pale.
She stepped away immediately.
“Forget I came.”
“Who is that?”
She hurried toward her Mercedes.
“Veronica.”
She stopped.
For one second, genuine fear crossed her face.
“Don't trust Gavin's business partner.”
“Which one?”
But she was already leaving.
The approaching black sedan slowed outside Alder Street.
Then continued.
I photographed the license plate.
Mr. Keene ran it through an investigator.
Registered to Harper Development Group.
Gavin's company.
More specifically, assigned to his partner:
Lucas Harper.
I knew Lucas.
He had been best man at our wedding.
He sent expensive Christmas gifts to the children.
He had hugged me three nights ago and called me “the glue holding Gavin together.”
By evening, Mr. Keene had retrieved county planning records for the Milford parcel.
A proposed interstate logistics interchange was being considered less than one mile away.
If approved, Ruth's land would become worth somewhere between fourteen and twenty million dollars.
I stared.
“Does Gavin know?”
“Maybe.”
“Veronica?”
“Clearly.”
“Lucas?”
Mr. Keene typed.
Then stopped.
Harper Development had quietly purchased six neighboring parcels over the previous eighteen months.
Every property surrounding Ruth's land.
Except Ruth's.
“They need hers,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“And she refused to sell.”
“Yes.”
That explained Gavin's obsession with controlling the trust.
It explained Veronica.
Maybe even the forged affidavits.
But not everything.
Mr. Keene found another record.
A purchase offer made to Ruth seven months ago.
$900,000.
Far below the land's potential value.
Buyer:
A shell company.
He traced ownership.
Harper Development.
Signed authorization:
Gavin Mercer.
My husband had tried to buy his own mother's land secretly through his company.
Then my phone buzzed with a photograph from Hannah.
A piece of paper she'd found in Gavin's home office.
At the top:
MILFORD ACQUISITION — PHASE TWO.
Below it:
REMOVE RUTH'S CURRENT TRUSTEE.
I stared.
But Ruth was the current trustee.
Not me.
Which meant this plan had begun before she appointed me.
May you like
And on the final line, beneath my name, someone had written:
IF MARIANA RESISTS, USE VERONICA.
