Chapter 6: What Gerald Found
Gerald was waiting in the Solmere Group's legal office when Charlotte arrived at ten past nine.
The room looked like a storm had passed through it.
Stacks of documents covered the conference table.
Three open laptops.
Two empty coffee cups.
A paralegal Charlotte didn't recognize was still cross-referencing files in the corner.
"Sit down," Gerald said.
Charlotte sat.
"The woman in the photograph," he said.
"Rosalind Holt."
"I know.
Vivienne told me."
Gerald looked up.
"What else did she tell you?"
Charlotte gave him the short version.
The debt.
The restructuring.
The agreement.
The forty percent offer.
Gerald listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he was quiet for a moment.
"She told you the truth," he said.
"About most of it."
"Most of it."
"The debt was real.
Eighty-three million, not eighty.
Rosalind Holt did help restructure it.
The agreement your mother signed is real." He paused.
"But Vivienne left out the part that matters."
He turned one of the laptops to face Charlotte.
On the screen was a scanned document.
Older paper.
A letterhead Charlotte recognized — the Solmere Group's original legal firm, dissolved twelve years ago.
"Your mother didn't just sign the right-of-first-refusal agreement," Gerald said.
"She also commissioned an independent legal review of it.
Two years after she signed it.
She had concerns."
"What kind of concerns?"
"She believed the agreement had been obtained under duress." Gerald pointed to a paragraph on the screen.
"The Holt family didn't just offer to help.
According to this review, Rosalind Holt threatened to expose your grandfather's hidden investments publicly if your mother didn't sign.
The restructuring wasn't a favor.
It was leverage."
Charlotte read the paragraph twice.
"That's coercion," she said.
"It is.
And your mother knew it.
She spent two years building a case to have the agreement voided.
She had affidavits.
Financial records.
Correspondence." He turned to another document.
"And then she stopped."
"Why?"
Gerald hesitated.
"Gerald.
Why did she stop?"
"Because someone got to her legal team first," he said.
"The firm that was handling her challenge dissolved eighteen months after she commissioned the review.
Three of the four partners retired early.
The fourth moved abroad." He looked at Charlotte.
"The case files were never transferred.
They were supposed to go to a new firm.
They never arrived."
Charlotte sat back in her chair.
"The Holts buried it," she said.
"I believe so.
Yes."
"And my mother never tried again."
"She tried a different way," Gerald said.
He reached across the table and pulled a single sheet from a separate stack.
"She updated her will four times in the last three years of her life.
Each update was more specific than the last.
The final version — the one filed with the court — includes a clause that her legal team spent eight months drafting." He set the sheet in front of Charlotte.
"It specifically addresses the Holt agreement.
It argues that the agreement is unenforceable due to the circumstances under which it was obtained.
It names Rosalind Holt.
It references the coercion."
Charlotte looked at the clause.
It was dense.
Legal language she couldn't fully parse.
"Is it enough?" she asked.
"It's a strong argument," Gerald said.
"But arguments need evidence.
The affidavits your mother collected are gone.
The correspondence is gone.
Without them, the clause is a claim without proof."
"Then we find the proof," Charlotte said.
"I've already started." He nodded toward the paralegal in the corner.
"We're pulling every financial record from the restructuring period.
Bank transfers.
Meeting logs.
Anything that shows the Holts applied pressure before your mother signed."
Charlotte looked at the stack of documents on the table.
Fifteen years of paper.
Fifteen years of a secret her mother had carried alone.
"She was protecting me," Charlotte said quietly.
"The whole time.
She was trying to fix it before I ever had to know."
Gerald didn't answer right away.
He looked at the documents.
"She was," he said.
"And she came very close."
Charlotte's phone buzzed on the table.
She looked at the screen.
An unknown number.
A text message with no greeting, no name.
*Stop looking.
You won't like what you find at the bottom of this.*
She turned the phone to face Gerald.
He read it.
His jaw tightened.
"Someone knows we're pulling the records," Charlotte said.
"Yes," Gerald said.
"Someone inside this building?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"Gerald."
"I don't know yet," he said.
"But I intend to find out."
Charlotte set the phone face-down on the table.
"Keep pulling," she said.
May you like
"All of it.
Don't stop."
