Chapter 6: What the Lawyer Already Knew
The detective's name was Farrell.
She came to the hospital the next morning at nine, before the breakfast tray had been cleared.
She was somewhere in her fifties, wore no jewelry except small gold studs, and she pulled a chair to the side of my bed without being asked.
"How are you feeling?" she said.
"Clearer than yesterday," I said.
She nodded.
"I want to walk you through where we are.
The toxicology report is confirmed.
The substance is a uterine stimulant.
Prescription-grade.
We're working on tracing the source." She looked at her notes.
"Your sister's message last night — she states she was aware a substance had been added to your drink before the physical incident."
"Yes."
"That's significant.
Combined with the video evidence and the medical report, we're looking at this as a coordinated act, not a single impulsive event." She paused.
"I want to ask you about the trust document.
The one your mother took."
"My grandfather amended his trust three months before he died.
He added a clause for my daughter.
My parents knew about it.
They didn't tell me."
"Do you know who your grandfather's attorney is?"
"Gerald Marsh.
He has an office downtown.
He sent me the amendment by courier the week before the family lunch."
Farrell made a note.
"Has he been in contact with you since?"
"No.
But I haven't called him yet.
I was going to Monday."
"We'll need to speak with him." She looked up.
"One more thing.
Your father called you last night and left no voicemail.
Before that, he sent your husband a text message asking him to warn you to — and I'm quoting — think carefully before doing something you can't undo."
"Yes."
"Has your father made any other contact since the incident?"
"No."
She closed her notebook.
"I'd like you to avoid contact with your parents and your sister for now.
If they reach out, document it and send it to me.
Don't respond."
"Understood."
She stood.
"Your cousin — Reese — she did the right thing.
Both videos are in evidence.
She's been very cooperative."
After Farrell left, Daniel went to get coffee.
I called Gerald Marsh's office and left a message with his answering service asking him to call me as soon as possible.
It was a Saturday, but I left my number twice.
He called back in forty minutes.
"I've been expecting to hear from you," he said.
His voice was careful.
Measured.
"I saw the news alerts about an incident at a family gathering.
I didn't know if it involved you."
"It did," I said.
"The amendment — my mother took the physical copy from my bag."
A pause.
"That doesn't affect the document's validity.
I have the original on file.
The amendment was executed and witnessed correctly.
It's valid."
"My family is going to challenge it," I said.
"They're going to say my grandfather wasn't of sound mind."
"They're welcome to try," Marsh said.
"I have three years of correspondence with your grandfather.
I have the capacity evaluation he voluntarily completed six months before he passed.
He was meticulous about this, Mrs.—" He stopped.
"He told me, specifically, that he expected it to be challenged.
He prepared for it."
My throat tightened.
"He knew they would fight it."
"He knew," Marsh said simply.
"He also left a letter.
Sealed.
To be opened only in the event the amendment was legally contested." Another pause.
"Or in the event of a threat to you or your daughter before the trust was settled."
I sat up straighter.
"He left a letter for this specific situation."
May you like
"He was a careful man," Marsh said.
"Would you like me to bring it to you?"
