Chapter 7: Three Women and a Yellow Legal Pad
The desk sergeant's name was Officer Tran.
She was compact and unhurried, and she listened to Grace's opening summary without interrupting once.
When Grace finished, Officer Tran looked at the three of us — me, Rebecca, Diane — and then at the stack of documents on her desk.
"How many victims total?" she asked.
"Three confirmed," Grace said.
"Possibly a fourth we haven't located yet."
Officer Tran picked up her phone and made a call.
She spoke quietly, turned slightly away, then hung up.
"Detective Marsh handles financial fraud," she said.
"He'll be down in ten minutes.
Don't move anything off that desk."
Detective Marsh was a tall man in his late fifties with the particular tiredness of someone who had heard many stories and was still paying attention.
He shook Grace's hand first, then each of ours.
He sat down, pulled the documents toward him, and read without speaking for four full minutes.
Then he looked up at me.
"You were married yesterday," he said.
"Fourteen hours," I said.
He looked back at the documents.
"And the voicemail."
Grace played it from her phone.
Brenda's voice filled the small room again — warm, unhurried, completely certain.
Detective Marsh listened to the end.
He didn't react visibly, but his pen moved to a fresh line on his notepad.
"Mrs.
Hartwell," he said, using Brenda's married name, "is she currently at the family residence?"
"As of last night, yes," I said.
He wrote something down.
"And the attorney — Martin Greer."
"His office address is on every document," Grace said.
"He witnessed all three property transfers and both prenuptial agreements we have on file."
"Both," Detective Marsh repeated.
"Rebecca's and Chloe's," Grace said.
"We believe Diane's agreement was handled by a different notary, but the transfer documents Diane signed were also routed through Greer's office."
Detective Marsh looked at Diane.
It was the first time he had looked directly at her.
"Ms.
Paulsen," he said, "are you prepared to give a formal statement today?"
Diane's hands were flat on her knees.
"Yes," she said.
He nodded once.
"Then I'm going to need the room for a few minutes." He stood and looked at Grace.
"You'll want to call your contact at the DA's office."
Grace was already reaching for her phone.
I stepped into the hallway with Rebecca while Diane stayed inside with Detective Marsh.
Through the frosted glass panel of the door, I could see the shapes of them — Diane sitting very still, Detective Marsh writing.
"She's been carrying this for three years," Rebecca said quietly.
"I know," I said.
"She almost didn't come last night.
She drove to Grace's office and sat in the parking lot for twenty minutes before she came inside."
I looked at the frosted glass.
"But she came in."
"She came in," Rebecca said.
My phone buzzed.
A text from a number I didn't recognize.
*This is Martin Greer.
I think we should speak before this goes any further.
I can make this very simple for you.*
I stared at it.
Then I walked back to the door, knocked once, and opened it.
"Detective Marsh," I said, "Derek's lawyer just texted me."
He looked up from his notepad.
I held out my phone so he could read the screen.
He read it.
Then he picked up his own phone and made a second call — shorter than the first, and quieter.
When he hung up, he looked at Grace.
May you like
"Tell your DA contact to move the timeline up," he said.
"Greer just made our case significantly easier."
