Chapter 6: The Morning He Thought He Could Still Win
Ryan called at seven forty-three the next morning.
I was in the kitchen making coffee.
Emily was still asleep in the guest room — the first real sleep she'd had in weeks, she'd told me the night before.
I let it ring once, then picked up.
"Put Emily on," he said.
"She's not available."
"James.
I'm not playing games.
I need to speak to my wife."
"Your attorney can speak to her attorney.
Gerald Hartley has agreed to represent her."
Silence.
Then: "Gerald."
"Yes."
"Gerald is family.
He wouldn't—"
"He stood up and walked out of your wedding, Ryan.
I think he already did."
Another silence.
Longer.
"Listen to me." His voice shifted — lower, more controlled.
The voice he used in business meetings, I imagined.
"I know how this looks.
I know Emily is upset and she has every right to be.
I made mistakes.
I'm willing to admit that.
But dragging this into a legal fight is going to hurt Lily more than anyone.
Is that what you want?"
"What I want," I said, "is for you to stop pretending this is about Lily."
"She's my daughter—"
"You told her her mother was dying.
You sl@pped her at your own wedding for crying.
Don't talk to me about what's good for Lily."
The controlled voice cracked slightly.
"You have no idea what Emily put me through.
You only know her side—"
"I know what's in that envelope.
I know what's in the county recorder's office.
And I know what you said in that corridor last night, because Emily's phone caught every word of it."
A long pause.
"What do you want?" he said finally.
"Money?
Is that what this is?"
"Gerald will be in touch," I said.
"Don't contact Emily directly again."
I ended the call.
Emily was standing in the kitchen doorway in borrowed clothes, her hair loose, a look on her face that said she'd heard enough.
"He offered money," she said.
"He implied it."
She poured herself a coffee and sat at the table.
"He always does that.
When he can't control something, he tries to buy it." She wrapped both hands around the mug.
"It used to work.
I used to feel guilty.
Like I was the one causing problems by being upset."
"You know that's not true."
"I know it now." She looked out the window.
"It took me a long time."
My phone rang again.
Gerald.
"I've spoken to my colleague in crjminal law," he said when I answered.
"She reviewed the insurance documents last night.
The notarization on the beneficiary change form is irregular — the notary stamp belongs to a woman who retired fourteen months ago and has been living in Portugal since.
Someone used her credentials after she left."
I put the phone on speaker so Emily could hear.
"Forg3ry," I said.
"Almost certainly.
My colleague is contacting the insurance company's fraud division this morning." Gerald paused.
"There's something else.
The house sale — I pulled the deed transfer.
Emily's signature appears on the transfer documents.
Emily, did you sign anything related to the house after the accident?"
Emily set her mug down.
"He brought me papers in the hospital.
He said they were for a home equity line of credit.
That we needed it to cover my medical bills."
"He used those signatures to transfer the deed," Gerald said.
"That is fr@ud.
Clear and documented fr@ud." Another pause.
"Emily, I need you to understand — Ryan is not in a negotiating position.
He may not know that yet.
But by end of business today, he will."
Emily was quiet for a moment.
"Gerald," she said.
"What about Lily?
What happens to Lily through all of this?"
"That is the one area where Ryan has no leverage and he knows it.
A father who misrepresented a child's mother as dying, who sl@pped that child in front of two hundred witnesses, and who is now under investigation for insurance forg3ry and property fr@ud — no family court judge in this state will look at that record and rule against you."
Emily closed her eyes briefly.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay."
"I'll call again at noon," Gerald said.
"In the meantime — do not respond to Ryan directly.
And if he contacts Lily—"
"He won't," Emily said.
"He never cared enough to try."
She said it without bitterness.
Just the flat, tired truth of someone who had finally stopped explaining things away.
Gerald ended the call.
Emily picked her coffee back up.
Lily's voice came from down the hall — small and sleepy, calling for her mother.
Emily was already moving before the second call came.
I stayed at the table and looked at my phone.
A new message had come in while we were on with Gerald.
Not from Ryan this time.
From Vanessa.
*I need to talk to someone.
Not Ryan.
May you like
I found something in his study last night and I don't know what to do with it.
Can we meet?*
