Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Knew
I stared at Diane’s signature.
She stared back at me.
Charles picked up the document before Rebecca could stop him.
His eyes moved down the page.
Then he looked at his wife.
“Diane?”
She said nothing.
Charles read aloud.
“Authorization to transfer partnership distributions into Caldwell Strategic Holdings.”
My stomach tightened.
Caldwell Strategic Holdings sounded like Ryan’s company.
It wasn’t.
I had never heard the name before.
Rebecca collected the remaining documents and handed them to another security officer.
Ryan pulled away from her.
“This is private financial information.”
Rebecca didn’t blink.
“It appears to contain Mrs. Caldwell’s information.”
“It will be preserved.”
Diane finally spoke.
“It wasn’t supposed to hurt Emily.”
I almost laughed.
The sentence was too absurd.
“You signed something using my assets.”
“It was temporary.”
“You knew?”
Diane looked toward Ryan.
“His father was going to lose everything.”
Charles slammed the document onto the table.
“Stop using me as your excuse.”
She recoiled.
Charles pointed at Ryan.
“When did this start?”
Ryan remained silent.
Charles looked at his wife.
“When?”
Diane lowered her voice.
“About two years ago.”
Two years.
Two years of birthdays.
Two Christmases.
Two anniversaries.
Two years of Diane hugging me while helping her son move money behind my back.
Lily stood beside Rebecca now.
She was watching every adult in the room.
That bothered me more than anything.
I walked to her and crouched.
“Sweetheart, go upstairs with Ms. Shaw’s partner.”
“I’m staying with you.”
“You’re safe.”
“I know.”
Her chin trembled.
“But are you?”
The question nearly broke me.
I touched her cheek.
“I will be.”
Rebecca nodded to one of the men.
He escorted Lily upstairs.
The moment she disappeared, I turned toward Ryan.
“Tell me everything.”
Ryan crossed his arms.
“I don’t owe you an explanation while your father’s people are standing in my parents’ house.”
Rebecca corrected him.
“Technically, it’s Mr. Hawthorne’s house.”
Charles closed his eyes.
Ryan’s face reddened.
I said, “The forty thousand dollars.”
“The guarantee.”
“The transfers.”
“How much did you take?”
Ryan said nothing.
My phone buzzed.
Dad was still on speaker, but another call had appeared.
My father’s attorney.
Rebecca noticed.
“Your father wants you to answer that privately.”
I picked up.
“Hello?”
A woman introduced herself as Margaret Sloan.
She had handled my grandmother’s estate.
I remembered her immediately.
“Emily, I need you to hear this without reacting until I finish.”
I looked directly at Ryan.
“Go ahead.”
“We’ve identified at least eleven transfers tied to accounts associated with your inheritance.”
“How much?”
“Confirmed so far?”
“Yes.”
“Two point three million dollars.”
My knees weakened.
Margaret continued.
“And there’s something else.”
“Ryan filed paperwork six weeks ago seeking authority to refinance the Fort Worth acreage.”
I gripped the phone.
“He can’t.”
“Not legally.”
“But the application includes a notarized power of attorney.”
“I never gave him power of attorney.”
“I know.”
May you like
Margaret paused.
“The notary is Diane Caldwell.”
