Chapter 8: What Harlan Did Next
I didn't expect to hear from Harlan Voss.
But on Tuesday morning, two days after Douglas filed the bar complaint, my phone rang from a number I didn't recognize.
I almost didn't answer it.
"Mr.
Calloway." A man's voice.
Smooth.
Careful.
"My name is Harlan Voss.
I think we should talk before this goes any further."
I walked to the kitchen and closed the door.
"I'm listening," I said.
"I want you to understand that my involvement in your wife's situation was entirely within the scope of legal property consultation.
Whatever she told you, I was acting as her attorney.
Everything I did was privileged."
"Attorney-client privilege doesn't cover fraud," I said.
A pause.
"No one has established fraud."
"The county recorder flagged an unauthorized transfer request on a property in my name.
You prepared that request."
"I prepared a document at my client's instruction.
Whether that document was authorized is a matter between you and your wife."
"The DA's office will have a different view."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"I'm calling as a professional courtesy," he said.
"To let you know that if this escalates, there are things that will come out about your wife that you may find difficult.
Things that could affect your daughter."
I felt the shift in the conversation.
The offer wrapped in a threat.
"Are you telling me to drop the complaint?" I asked.
"I'm telling you to consider the full picture before you make decisions you can't undo."
"My daughter was locked in a closet," I said.
"Repeatedly.
While my wife drained our household account and tried to steal my father's house.
There is no picture that changes that."
Silence.
"Whatever you think you have on me," I said, "Douglas has already seen it.
So has the DA's office.
If you had something that actually helped your case, you'd have led with it.
You didn't.
Which means this call is about scaring me into stopping.
And it hasn't worked."
I heard him breathe.
"Mr.
Calloway—"
"Don't call this number again," I said.
"Anything you want to say, say it to Douglas."
I hung up.
I called Douglas immediately and told him about the call.
"He recorded it," Douglas said.
"Or he had someone else on the line.
That's a standard intimidation tactic — they want you to say something they can use."
"I didn't say anything useful to him."
"Good.
But this tells us something.
He's worried.
If he weren't, he wouldn't have called."
"What do we do?"
"Nothing changes.
We let the process move.
But I want you to know — the DA's office called me this morning.
They've opened a preliminary inquiry.
They want the recordings."
"I'll bring them in."
"Bring your daughter too, if she's willing.
Not to testify — just so they can understand the full context of what she recorded and why."
I looked toward the hallway.
My daughter was in her room.
I could hear her moving around, the small sounds of a normal morning.
Getting dressed.
Opening a drawer.
"I'll ask her," I said.
"She's a brave kid," Douglas said.
"She is," I said.
May you like
"She figured out something was wrong before I did.
She just needed someone to listen."
