Chapter 9: The Conversation He Couldn't Control
Mark left a message on the fifth call.
I was sitting at my father's kitchen table, both hands wrapped around a mug of too-strong coffee, when my phone lit up with the voicemail notification.
My father was standing at the counter with his back to me, pretending to look for something in the cupboard so I could listen in private.
I put the phone on speaker.
*"Laura.
I don't know what you think you're doing, but I just got a call from the company's bank telling me our accounts have been frozen.
I need you to call me back right now.
Whatever Diana Reeves has told you, you don't have the full picture.
There are things I need to explain to you.
Please.
Just — call me back."*
My father turned around slowly.
He didn't say anything.
"He wants to explain," I said.
"Of course he does." My father sat down across from me.
"Are you going to call him?"
"Diana said not to speak to him without her present." I set the phone down.
"But I think he needs to understand that I already have the full picture."
I picked the phone back up and called him.
He answered before the first ring finished.
"Laura.
Thank God.
Listen to me—"
"Mark," I said.
"I know about Margaret Coles.
I know about the boy.
I know about Lakeview Consulting and the three hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
I know about the buyout filing."
Silence.
"I know about the falsified quarterly reports," I said.
"And I know about the house in Scottsdale."
More silence.
Then, very quietly: "How long have you known?"
"Long enough."
"Laura." His voice shifted — lower, more careful.
"This is not what it looks like.
Margaret — it's complicated.
The money was — I was going to pay it back.
I was going to fix everything before—"
"Before what?
Before you had me bought out of my own company for a fraction of its value?"
"That filing was never submitted.
I hadn't decided—"
"You had your attorney prepare it.
That's a decision, Mark."
He went quiet again.
When he spoke next, the careful tone was gone.
"You have no idea what you're doing.
If you freeze those accounts, you don't just hurt me.
You hurt the company.
You hurt every employee.
You hurt everything we built."
"Everything we built," I said.
"Yes.
I remember building it."
"Laura—"
"I'm not calling to negotiate.
I'm calling so you know that I know.
All of it." I paused.
"Your lawyer will be hearing from Diana today."
"Wait." His voice hardened.
"If you push this — if you go to the attorney's office — I will make sure your father's original investment is scrutinized.
Every dollar.
I have documentation that could make his contribution look like something very different from what it was."
My father's eyes met mine across the table.
His face didn't change.
"Are you threatening my father?" I said.
"I'm telling you there are complications you haven't considered."
"Mark," I said, "my father's investment was documented, taxed, and filed correctly in the year it was made.
I know because I did the paperwork myself." I kept my voice completely even.
"If you want to spend money having lawyers look at an eleven-year-old clean transaction, that's your choice.
But I don't think your attorney is going to recommend it."
He didn't answer.
"Goodbye, Mark."
I ended the call.
My father reached across the table and put his hand over mine.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
"He threatened you," my father said finally.
"He tried to." I looked at our hands.
"He has nothing.
He knows he has nothing.
That's why he tried it."
"Are you all right?"
I thought about it honestly.
"I think so.
I think I've been getting ready for this for longer than I knew."
My phone buzzed.
A text from Diana: *Injunction granted.
Accounts frozen as of 9:47 a.m.
State attorney's office has been notified.
Separation filing confirmed.
He's been served.*
I turned the phone so my father could read it.
He read it twice.
Then he stood up, went to the counter, and poured us both more coffee without asking.
When he sat back down, he looked at me steadily.
"What happens now?"
"Now," I said, "we wait for him to make his next move."
We didn't wait long.
At eleven-fifteen, Diana called.
"His attorney just contacted me.
Mark wants to meet.
He says he has information about the company that changes the picture.
He wants to sit down before this goes any further."
"What kind of information?"
"He wouldn't say.
But Laura — his attorney sounded nervous.
That's unusual."
I looked at my father.
He raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Set the meeting," I said.
"Tomorrow morning.
Your office.
And Diana — whatever he thinks he has, I want Ray Coulter's full report on the table before we walk in."
"Already requested," she said.
"I'll see you at nine."
I put the phone down.
Whatever Mark thought he was going to say tomorrow, he had spent the last two years believing I was finished.
That I had stepped back.
That I had softened.
May you like
He had forgotten who had built the thing he was trying to take.
Tomorrow, I was going to remind him.
