Chapter 9: What Came After
The APS referral moved faster than I expected.
Diane had told me it might take weeks.
It took nine days.
An investigator named Marcus Webb called me on a Wednesday morning, introduced himself in a straightforward and unhurried way, and asked if he could visit in person.
I said yes.
He sat at my kitchen table with a notepad, and we talked for nearly two hours.
He was thorough.
He asked about the timeline, the documents, the texts, the insurance email I had forwarded to Terrence, and the $40,000 I had contributed to their home purchase.
He asked whether there were any other financial transactions between me and my son or daughter-in-law over the past three years.
I showed him what I had.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"That depends on what the full investigation finds," he said.
"But based on what you've shown me and what's already in the court record, there are grounds here for a formal finding of attempted financial @buse of an older adult." He paused.
"There may also be grounds for a referral to the district attorney's office."
I hadn't let myself think that far ahead.
"Lennox," I said.
"Primarily," he said.
"Though we'll be looking at all parties involved."
I thought about Terrence.
About him standing at the window while I read the petition.
About the relief on his face.
"My son," I said quietly.
"He signed it."
"We'll look at the full picture," Marcus said.
He wasn't unkind about it.
"Does that concern you?"
I thought about it honestly.
I thought about the boy who used to fall asleep in the backseat of my car on the way home from his grandmother's house.
I thought about the man who had watched his wife slide a legal petition onto my coffee table without saying a word to stop her.
"I want the truth," I said.
"Whatever that means."
Three weeks later, Diane called to tell me that the district attorney's office had accepted a referral related to the case.
The filing, the coordination with Gerald under false pretenses, the use of my financial documents without consent, and the documented communications about property transfer had been enough.
Lennox had been formally notified.
Terrence had been interviewed and was cooperating with investigators, which Diane said would likely be relevant to how his own exposure was handled.
I didn't call Terrence.
I let the process work.
He called me, six days after that.
His voice was different from the last time — not careful or rehearsed.
Just tired.
"I gave them everything they asked for," he said.
"Everything about Lennox's plan.
The timeline, the contact she used to reach Gerald, the appraisal she had done on your house.
I didn't know about all of it.
Not the early parts.
But I knew enough, and I didn't stop it."
"No," I said.
"You didn't."
"I don't expect you to forgive me." His voice broke slightly on the last word.
"I just — I needed you to know that I know what I did."
I sat with that for a moment.
"I believe you," I said finally.
"But believing you and being ready to move forward are two different things.
I need time."
"I understand."
"Take care of yourself," I said.
I meant it.
It wasn't everything, but it was real.
A week after that call, I received a letter from Harwell & Crane informing me that they had withdrawn from representing Lennox effective immediately.
Three lines, no explanation.
I handed it to Diane, who read it and said simply, "Good."
Lennox retained new counsel.
The DA's process continued.
May you like
I tried not to track it day by day.
Some days I succeeded.
