Chapter 6: What Catherine Wanted
Marcus Webb had a corner office on the fourteenth floor of a building on Michigan Avenue, with a view of the lake that he never seemed to look at.
He read Diane's statement twice without speaking.
Then he set it on the desk and folded his hands.
"This is credible," he said.
"I know."
"The question is what you want to do with it."
"I want to understand something first." I leaned forward.
"Catherine switched the diamond before the ceremony.
She framed Sophie.
She used Preston to carry out a public scene at their own wedding.
Why?
What does she gain?"
Marcus picked up a pen and turned it slowly between his fingers.
"Walk me through the Vance family estate structure.
Who inherits what, and under what conditions?"
I had not been expecting that question.
I thought about it.
"My parents' primary estate goes to Preston.
That's always been understood.
But Grandmother Vance's trust — the one attached to the brooch and the original family assets — that's different.
It was set up to pass to the eldest grandchild with a clean legal record.
No criminal charges, no civil judgments."
Marcus set the pen down.
"And the eldest grandchild is?" he said, though I could tell from his expression that he already suspected.
"Me." I sat very still.
"I'm three years older than Preston."
"And if you were to be implicated in a theft — even indirectly.
Even as the mother of a child accused of stealing a family heirloom at a family event—"
"It could be used to challenge my standing in the trust." The words came out slowly, like I was hearing them for the first time even as I said them.
"A contested claim.
A family dispute on record.
Enough noise to delay the distribution."
"Which is triggered when?"
"Grandmother Vance's trust distributes at the end of this calendar year.
December.
Four months from now."
Marcus looked at me steadily.
"Catherine didn't marry into the Vance family, Evelyn.
She married into the Vance inheritance.
And she needed you discredited — or at minimum, entangled — before December."
The lake outside his window was flat and silver and very far away.
"She used my daughter," I said.
"She used everyone in that room." He picked up Diane's statement again.
"Preston included."
I thought about Preston on my doorstep.
*I didn't know.* And I had believed him — not because he deserved my belief, but because the look on his face when I told him about the switched diamond had been the look of a man realizing he had been a tool.
"What do I do?" I asked.
"Two things, simultaneously." Marcus opened a drawer and took out a yellow legal pad.
"First, we preserve the trust claim.
I'll file a protective motion this week to ensure the December distribution cannot be delayed or contested on the basis of what happened at the reception.
Second—" He looked up.
"We find out where the real diamond is."
"You think Catherine still has it."
"I think she took it for a reason.
And I don't think that reason was purely financial." He paused.
"Do you know anything about Catherine's background?
Before Preston?"
I opened my mouth to say no.
Then I stopped.
Because I remembered something.
A small thing, the kind of thing you file away without meaning to.
A comment at a dinner, eight months ago, before the engagement.
Preston mentioning that Catherine had grown up in Evanston.
That her family had money once, but lost it.
Lost it in a lawsuit.
A lawsuit involving a real estate dispute.
With the Vance family.
May you like
I looked at Marcus.
"I think," I said slowly, "this goes back further than the wedding."
