Chapter 5: The People Behind Ethan
Gerald opened the folder again and turned it so I could see.
There were names.
A column of them, with dates beside each one.
"Your husband didn't do this alone," Gerald said.
"He had help.
Financial help, legal help, and one person in particular who made the forged document possible."
I looked at the first name on the list.
"Who is Raymond Cassel?"
"A notary," Gerald said.
"Retired now.
He notarized the forged contract.
His stamp is on the document in your suitcase.
The problem for him is that he also notarized your father's real document — the legitimate one — two weeks earlier.
His stamp appears on both.
A forensic document examiner can date the ink.
When they do, one of those documents will be proven to have been backdated."
"And Cassel knew that when he stamped it?"
"He was paid not to care," Gerald said.
"Fifteen thousand dollars.
Wired to an account in his daughter's name."
I sat back in my chair.
"How do you know all of this?"
"Because your father suspected it was coming," Gerald said.
"He hired a private investigator eight months before he passed.
He didn't tell you because he didn't want to frighten you.
He wanted to build the case first." He paused.
"He ran out of time.
But the investigator didn't stop working.
He kept going after your father died, on his own time, because he felt he owed it to him."
"Where is he now?
The investigator?"
"He's the one who called me last week," Gerald said.
"He's the one who told me you were still in that house."
My phone was on the table.
It lit up.
The name on the screen was a number I didn't recognize.
I looked at Gerald.
"Answer it," he said.
I picked up.
"Hello?"
"Is this Claire?" A man's voice.
Careful, professional.
"Yes."
"My name is Dennis Farrow.
I worked for your father.
I think Gerald Holt is with you right now."
"He is."
"Good.
Then I'll be brief.
Ethan made two calls in the last twenty minutes.
One to Raymond Cassel.
One to a man named Victor Pryce.
Pryce is an attorney — not a legitimate one.
He was disbarred in 2019.
He's the one who drafted the forged contract."
I looked at Gerald.
He was watching me.
"Why are you telling me this now?" I said.
"Because Pryce has done this before," Dennis said.
"Three other families.
Elderly parents, assets transferred, children left with nothing.
Your father was not the first.
But he was the one who fought back hard enough to leave a record.
I want to use that record."
"To do what?"
"To make sure Pryce and Cassel are charged.
And Ethan." A pause.
"But I need you to be willing to be a witness.
I need you not to settle quietly.
I need you to let this go all the way."
The kitchen was very still.
"How long will it take?" I said.
"Months.
Possibly longer."
"And in the meantime, Ethan knows I have the contract."
"Yes," Dennis said.
"Which is why I need you to leave that house today.
Not tomorrow.
Today."
I looked at the suitcase sitting in the hallway where I had left it.
Passport.
Cash.
Plane ticket.
I had packed it three weeks ago thinking I was running away.
"I already have a bag packed," I said.
"Good," Dennis said.
"Gerald knows where to take you."
I set the phone down.
Gerald was already closing the folder.
He stood up and buttoned his coat.
"There's a car outside," he said.
"Whenever you're ready."
I looked around the kitchen.
The red cast-iron pot was still on the floor of the hallway where it had fallen.
Barbara's coffee cup was on the counter, half-full.
The letter from my father was on the table.
I picked up the letter.
Folded it carefully.
Put it in my coat pocket.
I picked up the suitcase.
"I'm ready," I said.
We were almost at the front door when I heard a car pull up fast outside.
Not Gerald's car.
A different engine.
The door opened hard.
Ethan came back through the front door before I could reach it.
He wasn't alone.
The man behind him was tall, well-dressed, carrying a leather briefcase.
He looked at me the way people look at problems they intend to solve quickly.
"Claire," Ethan said.
"This is Victor Pryce.
He's here to explain your legal situation."
Victor Pryce set his briefcase on the hallway table and smiled at me.
"Mrs.
Hartley," he said.
"I think there's been some confusion about what those documents actually mean.
I'd like ten minutes to clear it up."
Gerald stepped forward so he was standing beside me.
"She doesn't have ten minutes," Gerald said.
Pryce looked at Gerald for the first time.
The smile didn't move, but something behind his eyes did.
"Gerald Holt," Pryce said.
"I wondered when you'd surface."
"I imagine you did," Gerald said.
Ethan looked between them.
May you like
"You two know each other?"
Neither of them answered him.
