Chapter 9: My Fake Lawyer
The man who supposedly represented me had just appeared outside my temporary quarters.
That fact was so absurd that for one second I wondered whether I had misunderstood Julian.
Then Samuel Pritchard looked directly at me.
Not around the parking lot.
Not at the building number.
At me.
He knew exactly who I was.
“Get inside,” I told Julian.
“What?””
“Inside. Now.””
I opened the exterior door with my access card.
Julian hesitated.
“Move.””
He followed.
The door locked behind us.
Pritchard kept walking.
I called installation security.
Then Dana.
“Samuel Pritchard is here.””
Silence.
“Where is here?””
“Outside my quarters.””
“What?””
“Julian identified him.””
“Why is Julian with you?””
“Long story.””
“Of course it is.””
Through the glass, Pritchard stopped several feet from the entrance.
He didn’t knock.
He pulled out his phone.
Mine rang.
Unknown number.
Dana said, “Do not answer.””
I declined.
A text appeared.
We should talk privately before this gets worse.
I sent the screenshot to Dana.
Another message.
Richard is not telling you the truth.
Then:
Neither is Patricia.
Security arrived less than three minutes later.
Pritchard saw the vehicle.
He calmly returned to his SUV.
Drove away.
No confrontation.
No dramatic escape.
That frightened me more.
People who panic make mistakes.
Samuel Pritchard looked like a man who had planned his visit.
Security took a report.
Julian gave his name reluctantly.
When they left, I turned to him.
“Start talking.””
He looked at the hallway.
“Can we go somewhere private?””
“No.””
“Charlotte.””
“No. You appeared at my residence without warning. You get the hallway.””
He leaned against the wall.
“Pritchard isn’t a lawyer.””
“I know.””
“He used to work with Grandpa.””
“What did he do?””
“Financial consulting.””
“That phrase is becoming meaningless.””
Julian almost smiled.
Almost.
“He helped Grandpa restructure companies.””
“Which companies?””
“I don’t know all of them.””
“Blue Ridge?””
Julian nodded.
My heartbeat accelerated.
“Harold owned Blue Ridge?””
“No.””
“Then who?””
“Grandpa’s brother.””
I frowned.
Richard had barely mentioned his uncle.
“Thomas Bennett?””
“Yes.””
“I thought he died.””
“He did.””
“When?””
“Six years ago.””
“Who inherited Blue Ridge?””
Julian looked uncomfortable.
“His daughter.””
“Name?””
“Rebecca Bennett Shaw.””
I knew Rebecca.
Not well.
She attended our wedding.
Christmas twice.
Richard described her as a spoiled cousin who had inherited money she didn’t deserve.
“What does Rebecca have to do with this?””
“She owns most of Blue Ridge.””
“Why would Richard secretly send loan money to his cousin’s company?””
Julian rubbed his palms against his jeans.
“Because he was buying it.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
“Dad was trying to buy Blue Ridge.””
“With my house?””
“He said the trust owned the house.””
“My fake trust.””
“I know that now.””
“How much was he paying?””
“I don’t know.””
“You know more than you’re telling me.””
He looked away.
“Julian.””
“Three million.””
The number landed heavily.
“Richard was buying Blue Ridge for three million dollars?””
“Part of it.””
“How?””
“Installments. Investments. Whatever.””
“With loans taken using my identity.””
“He said you agreed.””
“Stop saying that.””
He flinched.
“Did you ever hear me agree?””
“No.””
“Did you ever see me discuss Blue Ridge?””
“No.””
“Did I ever mention a trust?””
“No.””
“Then stop hiding behind what your father said.””
His jaw tightened.
For a moment, the old Julian appeared.
Defensive.
Entitled.
Then it disappeared.
“You’re right.””
That surprised me.
“I should’ve asked.””
“Yes.””
“I didn’t.””
“No.””
“And now I’m screwed.””
I didn’t comfort him.
Consequences aren’t cruelty.
Sometimes they’re the first honest thing that happens to a person.
“What role did Pritchard play?””
“He set up the companies.””
“Which companies?””
“JRB. Piedmont. Some others.””
“You knew he wasn’t an attorney?””
“I thought he was some kind of lawyer.””
“He pretended to represent me.””
Julian’s face tightened.
“I didn’t know that.””
“Did you know about Patricia?””
“Yes.””
“How much?””
“She helped with paperwork.””
“Forged paperwork?””
“I didn’t know that.””
“Why did you pay her sixty thousand dollars?””
He looked stunned.
“How do you know that?””
“Answer.””
He lowered his voice.
“Dad told me to.””
“For what?””
“He said it was repayment.””
“For the money Harold blamed her for?””
Julian looked at me sharply.
“You know about that?””
“Yes.””
He nodded slowly.
“Dad said Grandpa ruined her life.””
“After Richard stole the money.””
“That’s what Patricia claimed.””
“And what does Richard claim?””
“That Grandpa told him he could use it.””
Of course.
Always permission.
Always misunderstanding.
Always somebody else’s fault.
“What did Patricia want?””
“Money. And something else.””
“What?””
“A file.””
My pulse quickened.
“What file?””
“I don’t know.””
“Think.””
“She called it the ledger.””
I stared at him.
“What ledger?””
“I don’t know.””
He saw my expression.
“I swear.””
“Why would Richard have it?””
“Grandpa had it.””
“And after Harold died?””
“Dad took most of his business records.””
The storage unit.
My heartbeat accelerated.
“What’s in the ledger?””
“I don’t know. Patricia said it could destroy people.””
“Which people?””
“She never said.””
My phone rang.
Dana.
I answered.
“Martin found Pritchard.””
“He was just here.””
“I know. Security contacted local authorities based on the report.””
“What did Martin find?””
“He has a real name.””
I looked at Julian.
“What?””
“Samuel Pritchard is Samuel Pritchard. But he isn’t an attorney. He’s a former financial consultant whose license as a CPA was revoked twelve years ago.””
“For what?””
“Fraudulent reporting.””
Of course.
“Connection to Harold?””
“He worked for Harold Bennett and Thomas Bennett.””
“Blue Ridge.””
“Yes.””
“And Patricia?””
“Same period.””
The old company.
The old missing money.
The old accusation.
Everything kept circling back.
“Dana, there’s a ledger.””
Silence.
“What ledger?””
I explained.
When I finished, she said, “Do not go to the storage unit tonight.””
“I wasn’t planning to.””
“Good.””
“We’re meeting Evelyn tomorrow.””
“Martin and I will be there.””
Julian straightened.
“What storage unit?””
I ignored him.
Dana heard.
“Is he still there?””
“Yes.””
“Do not discuss the location.””
“I won’t.””
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“What did Grandpa leave?””
“Not your concern.””
“It is if Dad’s involved.””
“You had twenty-two years to start asking questions.””
That shut him up.
Dana continued.
“Charlotte, I also spoke with counsel for Virginia Heritage.””
“And?””
“They sent the full trust package.””
My stomach tightened.
“Anything new?””
“Yes.””
I waited.
“There are meeting minutes.””
“What meeting?””
“The supposed meeting where you and Richard established the trust.””
I laughed once.
“I assume I attended.””
“Apparently enthusiastically.””
“Where?””
“At your house.””
“When?””
“The evening before the notarized deed.””
I thought about the date.
Then remembered.
“I was already in Ohio.””
“Exactly.””
“So more fraud.””
“Yes, but there’s something else.””
Her voice changed.
“The minutes list a witness.””
“Patricia?””
“No.””
“Pritchard?””
“No.””
“Who?””
Dana paused.
“Evelyn Bennett.””
I went completely still.
Richard’s mother.
The woman helping me.
The woman who claimed she didn’t know.
“What does it say?””
“That Evelyn witnessed you discuss the trust, approve its terms, and sign preliminary documents.””
Julian whispered, “What?””
I barely heard him.
“That’s impossible.””
“I know.””
“Evelyn said she only gave Richard old files.””
“I know.””
“Did she sign the minutes?””
“Yes.””
My stomach turned.
“Her real signature?””
“We don’t know.””
I called Evelyn.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
I called Melissa.
She answered on the second ring.
“Charlotte?””
“Where’s Evelyn?””
“With me.””
“Put her on.””
A pause.
Then Evelyn.
“Charlotte?””
“Did you witness me create a family property trust?””
Silence.
Long enough.
Too long.
“Evelyn.””
“I didn’t know what it was.””
My chest tightened.
“What did you sign?””
“Richard brought papers.””
“When?””
“Last year.””
“What did he tell you?””
“That you needed a witness for estate planning documents because you were traveling.””
I closed my eyes.
“And you signed without me there?””
“He said you had already signed.””
“Did you see my signature?””
“Yes.””
“Did you watch me sign it?””
“No.””
“Then why did you certify that you did?””
“I didn’t read everything.””
I stood completely still.
The betrayal wasn’t the same as Richard’s.
But it hurt anyway.
“Charlotte, I’m sorry.””
“Did Patricia witness you sign?””
“No.””
“Was Pritchard there?””
Silence.
“Evelyn?””
“Yes.””
There it was.
All four of them.
Richard.
Patricia.
Pritchard.
Evelyn.
Maybe for different reasons.
Maybe with different levels of knowledge.
But all connected.
“Did Harold ever tell you about a ledger?””
Her breathing stopped.
I knew before she answered.
“Yes.””
Julian stepped closer.
I raised my hand, stopping him.
“What was in it?””
“I never saw it.””
“What did Harold say?””
“That it was insurance.””
“Against what?””
“People.””
“What people?””
“He wouldn’t tell me.””
“Where is it?””
“I don’t know.””
“Storage?””
“Maybe.””
“Richard is looking for it, isn’t he?””
Evelyn began crying.
“Yes.””
That explained the desperation.
The searches.
The stolen fireproof box.
The questions.
Maybe even Patricia’s sudden willingness to talk.
Everyone wanted Harold’s ledger.
“Tomorrow morning,” I said.
“You take Dana, Martin, and me to the storage unit.””
“All right.””
“You tell Richard nothing.””
“I won’t.””
We disconnected.
Julian stared at me.
“Dad knows where it is.””
“What?””
“The storage facility.””
My blood chilled.
“How?””
“He put a tracker on Grandma’s car.””
For a second, I thought I had misheard.
“What?””
“He started tracking her after she came to your house.””
“When?””
“Yesterday.””
I grabbed my phone.
Called Evelyn again.
No answer.
Melissa.
No answer.
Then Dana.
“Richard knows about the storage unit.””
“How?””
“Tracker.””
Silence.
Then Dana swore.
I was already grabbing my keys.
“Charlotte, do not go there.””
“I’m not.””
“What are you doing?””
“Calling Evelyn.””
“Have Martin contact the facility.””
Julian was staring at his phone.
His face changed.
“What?””
He showed me.
A text from Richard.
One sentence.
You should have stayed out of this.
Then another.
Don’t bother looking for Grandpa’s records.
And a photograph.
A storage unit.
Door open.
Boxes scattered across the concrete.
In the center of the image sat an empty metal lockbox.
May you like
On its lid, written in black marker, were two words.
FOUND IT.
