Chapter 8
I remembered those three weeks.
Maren had been in and out of the hospital. Claire had visited with soup and fresh clothes. I had been juggling work, treatment schedules, and a twelve-year-old girl who knew her mother was slipping away.
Claire had been there when I couldn’t be.
That was why I had trusted her.
“What exactly did Maren tell you?” I asked.
“She wanted the lake house protected. She didn’t want it sold to pay medical bills.”
“Then why did the deed go to Vale Family Holdings?”
“Because the title was already tangled.”
“What does that mean?”
“Her father had debts.”
Eleanor’s expression changed.
“Dad paid the debts before he died.”
“Not all of them.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Maren showed me the notices.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because you were grieving your sister’s baby and trying to save the house.”
Eleanor stood.
“You’re using the baby’s death to explain a property dispute?”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
“I’m explaining what happened.”
“You told me there was no baby.”
Maya looked at Claire.
“Why?”
Claire sat down.
“Because you were young.”
“I was twelve. I was old enough to know my mother had a sister.”
“Maren was sick. She didn’t want old pain reopened.”
“That’s what you told Eleanor?”
“I told her to wait.”
“For how many years?”
Claire did not answer.
Maya moved toward her.
“Did Mom ask you to keep us apart?”
“No.”
“Did she ask you to hide this box?”
“No.”
“Did she ask you to take my money?”
Claire lowered her eyes.
“No.”
The bluntness of the answer silenced everyone.
I took the documents and placed them in front of her.
“Why the company?”
“Because a buyer had made an offer on the property. Maren didn’t want the house sold. I agreed to help Eleanor keep it.”
“You said the company was a safe way to hold it.”
“I did.”
“Who controls it?”
“An attorney.”
“Name?”
“Grant Mercer.”
Eleanor’s face went stiff.
“Grant was my father’s lawyer.”
“He still manages the company.”
“Why would he need Maya’s college money?”
“I didn’t give him all of it.”
“You sent him fifty-one thousand dollars.”
“I paid an old lien.”
“You said you paid your mother’s care.”
“I did.”
“You said you paid the house bills.”
“I did.”
“So where did the money go?”
Claire’s voice cracked.
“Some of it went to Hawthorne. Some to the car. Some went to Grant. I was trying to stop the property from being seized.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would have stopped me.”
“Yes.”
“And then the house would have been lost.”
“You don’t get to steal from Maya to save a house she never knew existed.”
“I was trying to keep something your daughter’s mother left her.”
“By taking away the thing Maren actually left her?”
Claire looked at Maya.
“I was going to repay it.”
“With what?” Maya asked.
“I had an arrangement.”
“With Grant?”
Claire’s silence answered.
Eleanor picked up the deed.
“Tomorrow we go to the lake house. Grant will be there?”
“He said he would be.”
“Then he can explain the company.”
Claire stood.
“I’ll drive.”
“No,” I said. “We’ll go together.”
The next morning, we drove to Lake Arden in two cars. Claire sat beside me. Maya and Brooke followed with Eleanor.
The house stood at the end of a narrow road, tucked between pine trees and the water. It had faded blue shutters and a wide porch. The paint needed work, but the dock remained strong.
Maya stepped out slowly.
“Mom brought me here once,” she said. “I remember the water.”
“Did she tell you whose house it was?”
“She said it belonged to the family.”
Claire went to the front door and used a key.
A man in a gray suit waited inside.
He introduced himself as Grant Mercer.
His greeting was warm. His eyes were not.
“You brought the whole family,” he said to Claire.
“They deserve answers,” she replied.
He looked at me.
“Your wife has been helping resolve a complicated estate issue.”
“By forging my name?”
Grant’s expression stayed smooth.
“I can’t comment on banking matters.”
“Then comment on this company.”
He spread his hands.
“Vale Family Holdings was created to preserve the property.”
“Who owns it?”
“The controlling interest is held by a trust.”
“Whose trust?”
He looked at Claire.
She had turned pale.
“Claire,” I said. “Who owns the company?”
Grant set a folder on the table.
“The company’s ownership is under dispute.”
“By whom?”
“Eleanor Vale.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed.
“You told the bank the claim had been settled.”
“The court filing is still under review.”
“What court filing?”
He removed a document from the folder.
It named Eleanor and Maren’s father as the original owners.
Below that, a new beneficiary had been typed in.
Maya Ellis.
But the signature at the bottom was not Maren’s.
Eleanor looked at it closely.
“That is not my sister’s signature.”
Grant closed the folder.
“The document has been verified.”
“By whom?”
May you like
He leaned toward us.
“Your wife’s signature is on it too.”
