Chapter 7: The Brother Comes to Bargain
Thomas Whitmore was sitting in a private waiting area off the main lobby when Evelyn came down.
I came with her.
She hadn't told me to stay upstairs, and I hadn't asked permission.
He was in his early sixties, broad-shouldered, with the kind of face that had probably been handsome once and now just looked expensive.
He stood when he saw Evelyn.
When he saw me, something shifted behind his eyes.
"Who is this?" he said.
"Sit down, Thomas."
"Evelyn, I asked—"
"And I said sit down."
He sat.
Evelyn took the chair across from him.
I stood slightly behind her and to the right, where I could see his face clearly.
"You look like him," Thomas said to me.
His voice was careful.
Measuring.
"I've been told," I said.
He looked back at Evelyn.
"This is a mistake.
Whatever she's told you—"
"She hasn't told me anything I hadn't already found," Evelyn said.
"I've had investigators working for fourteen months, Thomas.
I know about the accounts.
I know about the forged testimony against Sarah.
I know what you and Victor told Daniel."
Thomas was quiet for a moment.
"Daniel made his own choices," he said.
"Daniel was twenty-six years old and he trusted his brother." Evelyn's voice didn't rise.
It went flatter, which was worse.
"You handed him a lie and watched him swallow it."
"The estate needed protecting."
"From a twenty-two-year-old woman who loved your brother?
That's what it needed protecting from?"
"From someone we didn't know.
Someone who appeared from nowhere and had Daniel completely—"
"Enough." Evelyn set both hands on her knees.
"Why are you here, Thomas?
Not the real reason.
The reason you came yourself instead of sending Victor."
Thomas glanced at me again.
"Victor doesn't know I'm here," he said.
That was unexpected.
I kept my face still.
"Go on," Evelyn said.
Thomas leaned forward.
His hands were clasped between his knees, and for the first time he looked less like a man in control and more like a man calculating how much ground he could afford to give up.
"Victor is moving faster than I agreed to," he said.
"The envelope last night — I didn't sanction that.
Coming to the hospital — I didn't sanction that either."
"You're telling me your partner is off-leash," Evelyn said.
"I'm telling you that what started as a business arrangement has become something I'm no longer comfortable with." He paused.
"Sarah was never supposed to be physically hurt."
"And yet she has two cracked ribs and a concussion."
Thomas's jaw tightened.
"That wasn't me."
"It was someone working for your partner.
Which makes it your problem as much as his."
He was quiet.
"What are you offering, Thomas?" Evelyn said.
"I want to resolve this cleanly.
Daniel's share of the estate — I'll acknowledge the claim.
I'll instruct my lawyers to cooperate with yours.
Full accounting of the last four years." He looked at me.
"In exchange for a private settlement.
No legal action.
No public disclosure."
I looked at Evelyn.
She looked at Thomas for a long moment.
"You want to buy our silence," she said.
"I want to avoid a situation that damages everyone."
"It won't damage me," Evelyn said.
"Or Clara.
It will damage you.
And Victor." She tilted her head slightly.
"Which is why you're here without him."
Thomas said nothing.
"I'll consider what you've said," Evelyn told him.
"But I want something in return — not money.
Information.
Everything you have on Victor Hale.
Every account, every document, every arrangement between you.
In writing.
Signed."
Thomas's face went very still.
"If I do that—"
"If you do that," Evelyn said, "I'll have reason to believe you're acting in good faith.
And good faith is the only currency I'm accepting right now."
Thomas stood slowly.
He buttoned his jacket with the careful movements of a man who needed something to do with his hands.
"I'll need until tomorrow morning," he said.
"You have until nine a.m.," Evelyn said.
"After that, my lawyers make the first call."
He walked toward the lobby exit without looking back.
I watched him go.
"Do you trust him?" I asked.
"Not even slightly," Evelyn said.
"But I trust that he's frightened of Victor.
And frightened men are useful." She stood.
"Come.
Let's go back to your mother."
We were halfway to the elevator when my phone buzzed.
A number I didn't recognize.
I answered it.
A man's voice.
Smooth.
Unhurried.
"Hello, Clara.
May you like
My name is Victor Hale.
I think it's time we spoke directly, don't you?"
