Chapter 5: The Woman Behind the Curtain
Hannah screenshot the message and sent it to Gerald Marsh's number before she had even read it a second time.
Florence was still on the phone with Gerald when Hannah held the screen up for her to see.
The old woman's eyes moved across the words.
She said, into the phone, "Add that to the file.
She just received a threat by text."
Gerald's voice came through the speaker, low and unhurried.
"Don't respond.
Don't delete it.
I'll need the number traced.
Can she forward it to me directly?"
"Forwarding it now," Hannah said.
She sent it.
Then she set the phone down and looked at the number again.
She didn't recognize it.
But the wording — *you should have stayed asleep* — told her one thing clearly.
Whoever sent it had been in the house.
Or Brandon had told them within minutes of leaving.
"Gerald wants us in his office tomorrow morning at nine," Florence said, ending the call.
"He's filing for an emergency injunction tonight to block any property transfer.
He says if Vance has already submitted documents, the injunction will flag them before they can be registered."
"Can he do that fast enough?"
"He says yes.
He's done it before." Florence sat down at the kitchen table.
"He also said something else."
Hannah waited.
"He said the letter — the one with Brandon's signature dated March 14th — is significant because it predates the forged documents.
It establishes intent.
It means this wasn't an impulsive decision.
It was a plan." Florence folded her hands.
"Gerald's word was premeditated."
The word sat in the kitchen between them.
"Brenda sent that text," Hannah said.
"Most likely."
"She knows Brandon came home.
She knows something went wrong."
"Yes."
Hannah pulled out a chair and sat down across from her grandmother.
"Tell me about Vance Holloway.
Everything you know."
Florence was quiet for a moment.
"He's fifty-three.
He's been a notary for about fifteen years.
He lost his license once, in 2019, for filing documents with incorrect witness attestations.
He got it reinstated eighteen months later." She paused.
"Brenda met him at a property auction two years ago.
He's helped her with several transactions since then.
Transactions that, according to Gerald, may not all have been legitimate."
"Gerald knows about his record?"
"Gerald has been thorough." Florence almost smiled.
"He's eighty-one years old and he has been practicing law in this county for fifty-four years.
He knows everyone.
And he does not like Vance Holloway."
Hannah almost laughed.
It came out wrong — too short, too tight.
She pressed her hand over her mouth and held it there for a moment.
"I keep thinking about the flowers," she said.
Florence looked at her.
"Brandon brought me flowers three weeks ago.
Tulips.
My favorite.
He said it was because he loved me." Hannah lowered her hand.
"He was already planning this.
He brought me flowers while he was planning this."
"Hannah—"
"I'm not falling apart.
I just need to say it out loud." She straightened in her chair.
"I need to understand who Brenda is in this.
Is she the one who found Vance, or did Brandon find him?"
"Brandon found him.
Through Brenda's contacts.
But the initial approach to Vance came from Brandon directly." Florence reached into her cardigan pocket again.
"Gerald asked me to gather anything I could.
Three weeks ago, I found this in the recycling bin in the study.
Brandon must have thought it was shredded."
She set a torn piece of paper on the table.
It had been carefully taped back together.
It was an email printout — an exchange between Brandon and Vance Holloway, dated eight weeks ago.
Hannah read it.
Vance had quoted a fee.
Fifteen thousand dollars.
Brandon had agreed.
The email used careful language — *facilitate the documentation process*, *ensure a smooth transition of asset management* — but the meaning was clear.
At the bottom, Brandon had written: *My sister will handle the old woman.
You just make sure the paperwork holds.*
Hannah set the email down.
"My sister will handle the old woman," she said quietly.
Florence said nothing.
"He called you the old woman."
"I've been called worse."
"Not by him." Hannah stood up.
She needed to move.
She walked to the counter and back.
"He trusted Brenda to handle you.
That means he knew what she was putting in the tea.
He knew and he let it happen."
"Yes."
"That's not just fr@ud, Grandma.
That's—" She stopped.
"What did Gerald call it?"
"He used the phrase elder @buse.
He said the dr*gging, combined with the forged documents and the nursing home plan, constitutes a pattern.
He said the DA's office takes that seriously."
The DA's office.
Hannah had not let herself think that far yet.
She thought about it now.
Brandon in a courtroom.
Brenda in a courtroom.
Vance Holloway's reinstated notary license being discussed by a judge.
Her phone rang.
It was a local number she recognized — Lily's school.
She answered immediately.
"Hello?"
"Mrs.
Miller?
This is Carol at the front office.
I'm calling because there's a woman here who says she's picking up Lily today.
May you like
She says you authorized it.
Her name is Brenda Miller."
