Chapter 11: What She Deserved to Know
She came in with her legal pad and a pen, the way she always did when he asked to see her, ready to take notes on something practical.
She stopped when she saw his face.
"Sit down," he said.
She sat.
She did not open the legal pad.
He told her everything.
The Caldwell complaint.
Holt Meridian.
Purvis.
The statement held by Renata's attorney for six months.
The confrontation with Derek twenty minutes ago.
He told her about the call to her brother.
He told her that he had known about it for days and had chosen to document rather than act, and that the delay had allowed the call to happen.
He told her that he was sorry.
For the third time.
And this time he didn't say anything after it.
Abby sat very still through all of it.
When he finished, she was quiet for a long moment.
"He called my brother," she said, "to try to build a case that I was desperate enough to be a liability."
"Yes."
"Because desperate people are easier to discredit."
"Yes."
She looked at her hands.
"And you watched him do it."
"I was building a record," Julian said.
"I thought I had more time before he made direct contact with your family.
I was wrong."
"You were protecting your case," she said.
"Not me."
The words were not angry.
They were precise.
That was worse.
"Yes," he said.
"At that point, yes.
I was." He looked at her directly.
"I'm telling you now because you deserve to know all of it.
Not just the parts that make me look careful."
Abby looked at the window.
"My father is in a rehabilitation facility in Queens," she said.
"If Derek had found something — anything — and used it to have me dismissed, I would have lost this salary.
I would have lost the ability to keep him there." Her voice was steady.
"That's what was at stake while you were building your record."
"I know," Julian said.
"Do you?"
"Yes," he said.
"And I'm not going to tell you that it was the right call.
It wasn't.
I prioritized the legal strategy over your safety, and that was wrong."
The room was quiet.
Abby looked at him for a long moment.
"What happens now?" she asked.
"My attorney files with the DA's office," Julian said.
"Renata's statement goes in.
The financial records go in.
Derek will be formally investigated.
The partnership is dissolved as of this morning — I signed the paperwork before he arrived."
"And Purvis?"
"Separate filing.
Witness intimidation.
Grace says the school schedule documentation alone is enough to open a case."
Abby nodded slowly.
"What do you need from me?" she asked.
He looked at her.
"Nothing.
This doesn't touch you."
"It already touched me," she said.
"My brother got a phone call designed to make him say something damaging about his sister.
That touches me." She opened her legal pad.
"What do you need from me?"
Julian was quiet for a moment.
"A written account of the call Derek made to you the night of the coffee shop meeting," he said.
"And Daniel's account of the Purvis call, if he's willing."
"He'll be willing." She was already writing.
"I'll have mine to Grace by end of day.
I'll call Daniel tonight."
"Abby."
She looked up.
"You don't have to do this," he said.
"The case is strong without it."
"I know," she said.
"But Renata Caldwell held her statement for six months because she was scared.
I'm not scared." She held his gaze.
"And I'd like Derek Holt to know that."
She went back to writing.
Julian watched her for a moment.
Then he picked up his phone and called Grace.
"We have two additional witnesses," he said.
"Abby Mercer and her brother Daniel.
She's preparing her statement now."
"That's significant," Grace said.
"The direct contact with family members — that's a pattern.
That strengthens the intimidation argument considerably."
"I know."
"Julian." Grace's voice was careful.
"Are you all right?"
He looked at Abby across the desk, writing steadily, Pearl — he had noticed the feather duster in her bag more than once — tucked into the side pocket.
"Getting there," he said.
May you like
It was the same thing he had said to Abby two nights ago in the hallway.
This time, he almost meant it.
