Chapter 17 - The Lawyer Who Prepared Everything
Martin disappeared before investigators could question him.
His apartment was empty.
His office computer had been wiped.
His car was found at LaGuardia Airport.
But according to travel records, he had never boarded a plane.
That meant he wanted us looking in the wrong direction.
Elena and I spent the next day reviewing every document Martin had touched.
The trust amendments.
The consulting agreements.
My marital agreement.
Even the resignation Celeste tried to make me sign.
One pattern emerged.
Martin had positioned himself everywhere.
He advised Celeste.
He protected Charles.
He processed Brier’s companies.
And he drafted the structure that merged my voting shares into Whitmore governance.
“He knew everyone’s secrets,” Elena said.
“He created some of them.”
We were in her office when Declan arrived.
He looked exhausted.
I did not ask if he had slept.
He placed a phone on the desk.
“What is that?”
“An old backup phone.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
I stared at him.
“I found messages with Martin.”
“About what?”
Declan sat.
“Brier.”
My chest tightened.
He unlocked the phone.
Eight months earlier, Declan had written Martin asking what would happen if he postponed the wedding.
Martin’s response was immediate.
Postponement may jeopardize the Hale activation.
Fix your personal problem.
Another message appeared two days later.
Declan.
Brier says she’ll contact Sarah.
Martin.
Then make sure Brier has a reason not to.
I looked at Declan.
“You went back to her.”
He nodded.
My throat tightened.
“You weren’t confused.”
“I was scared.”
“That is not better.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I pushed the phone away.
“You keep saying you know after the damage is already done.”
He lowered his head.
“I loved you, Sarah.”
“You loved access to a life where nobody forced you to choose.”
He looked at me.
I continued.
“You wanted me.”
“You wanted Brier available.”
“You wanted your mother’s approval.”
“You wanted your trust money.”
“And every time one desire conflicted with another, you lied.”
He did not defend himself.
That was new.
Then Elena’s computer chimed.
She opened an incoming file.
“What?”
Her face changed.
“Graham’s forensic team recovered data from Martin’s office server.”
She clicked.
A calendar appeared.
There were dozens of coded meetings.
One entry was dated the day my mother died.
M.K. / C.R. / BRAKES.
I stopped breathing.
Another entry appeared seven years later.
M.K. / B.L. / WEDDING NIGHT.
The meeting had occurred three days before my wedding.
B.L.
Brier Logan.
May you like
Whatever happened on our wedding night had not begun when Brier saw our photographs.
It had been scheduled.
