Chapter 9: Rebecca
Diana's demand letter arrived at Evan's email at 12:07 p.m.
He called me at 12:23.
I let it ring.
Then I listened to the voicemail.
His voice was careful in the way that voices get careful when they've been awake all night and had time to think or had talked to someone who advised caution.
He said he wasn't calling to fight.
He said he wanted to talk.
He said there were things he needed to explain about Rebecca.
I did not call back.
I forwarded the voicemail to Diana.
She called me at two.
"Rebecca Salter," she said.
"I've been looking at the LLC registration documents Gerald sent.
She's listed as a registered agent.
Not a member — agent.
Which means she filed the paperwork.
She set it up administratively."
I sat down.
"Linda couldn't have done the filing herself," I said slowly.
"She's not—"
"She's not technically proficient enough for the corporate filing system, apparently.
Someone who knows how to navigate it did it for her.
Rebecca Salter's firm handles corporate registrations.
It's part of their standard services."
"Evan's business partner filed the LLC that holds the lien on Evan's house."
"Registered it.
Whether she understood what it was for—" Diana paused.
"That's a question.
But her name is on the document.
And she took calls from Evan during the move last night, which suggests she knew something had started."
I thought about the contact name on Evan's phone.
Two initials.
The white face.
The silenced call.
"She warned him," I said.
"When the move started.
She called to warn him."
"Possibly.
Or she called because she found out through Linda.
Either way, there's a thread there worth pulling."
"Will you pull it?"
"In discovery, yes.
First I want to see if Evan responds to the demand letter through counsel.
If he lawyers up with someone who already knows about Rebecca, that tells us something."
He did lawyer up.
By four o'clock, I had an email from an attorney named Christopher Hale — a name I recognized from Boston legal circles, the kind of attorney you hired when you had something serious to defend and the resources to do it properly.
I read the email twice.
It was measured and professional and said, in careful language, that his client was prepared to cooperate with the asset accounting request and was willing to engage in mediation on the lien question.
It did not address the estate trust transfers at all.
It did not mention Rebecca Salter.
I called Diana.
"He has Hale," I said.
A brief silence.
"That's interesting."
"Is it bad?"
"It means he's taking it seriously.
Hale doesn't do small cases.
It also means Evan has either more resources than you thought or someone is paying his retainer."
"Linda."
"That would be my first guess."
"She's paying for his defense."
"Which means she's managing his response.
Which means she's worried." Diana's voice had the quality of someone who has found the right door and is now looking for the handle.
"Good."
I hung up.
My phone buzzed almost immediately.
Not a call.
A text.
An unknown number.
*I think we should talk.
I didn't know what the LLC was for.
Please.
— R*
I stared at it.
Then I took a screenshot and sent it to Diana.
She replied in under a minute.
*Don't respond.
I'll handle it.*
I set the phone down on the kitchen counter of the friend's apartment I was staying in — Claire's place, a third-floor walk-up in Somerville with mismatched furniture and a good lock and a kitchen that smelled like coffee and someone else's normal life.
Claire had asked no questions when I arrived the night before with a document box and a padded box and a small bag of clothes.
She had handed me a key.
Some people, I thought, are exactly who they appear to be.
I made tea.
Sat down at the kitchen table.
Looked out the window at the narrow Somerville street below and the neighbors moving through their ordinary Tuesday.
Diana called again at seven.
"Gerald filed the elder financial exploitation complaint this afternoon," she said.
"I've been in contact with his personal attorney.
He acted independently but I've shared the documentation we have.
The DA's office will likely take two to three weeks to review before deciding whether to open an investigation."
My hands were steady around my mug.
"And the injunction?"
"Filed at five.
The lien is frozen pending the hearing.
Linda cannot act on it."
"When is the hearing?"
"Three weeks.
Hale will appear for Evan.
I expect Linda will retain someone separately.
Gerald's attorney may also appear." She paused.
"Natalie.
I want you to prepare yourself for this to take a while.
These things rarely move fast."
"I know."
"Are you somewhere safe?"
"Yes."
"Good." She paused again.
"One more thing.
Rebecca Salter called my office this afternoon.
She wants to cooperate."
I set down my mug.
"Cooperate how?"
"She says she didn't know what the LLC was intended to do.
She says Linda Carter came to her through a referral and described it as routine estate planning.
She says when she found out what the lien was for — from Evan, apparently, last night during those calls — she was upset."
"Do you believe her?"
"I believe she's scared," Diana said.
"Which is almost as useful."
Outside the window, a couple walked by with a dog.
The dog paused, looked up at a tree, then walked on.
"What do you want to do with her?" Diana asked.
I thought about it.
"If she testifies honestly," I said, "let her."
"All right."
"But Diana — make sure she understands what honest means.
Because if she shifts her account halfway through to protect Evan or Linda, I want that on the record too."
"Understood," Diana said.
There was a warmth in her voice — brief, professional, but there.
May you like
"You're handling this well," she said.
"I've had practice," I said, "keeping records."
