Chapter 10: Gerard Fitch
Patricia called at eight-thirty the next morning.
"Gerard Fitch is a residential developer," she said.
"Mid-size operation.
Buys older properties in good locations, renovates, sells.
He's done well." A pause.
"He's also been in a minor legal dispute over a property acquisition in the next county.
Allegation that the seller wasn't fully informed of the terms.
It was settled quietly."
"So he's done this before."
"He's operated in grey areas before.
Whether he knew the full picture of your situation, I can't say.
But if Nathan represented you as a willing seller, or implied that the ownership question was already resolved, that's a problem for Fitch too."
"Can we use that?"
"We can make him very uncomfortable." Patricia's voice was measured.
"I'd like to send him a letter.
Not threatening.
Informational.
Letting him know that the property is not and has never been available for sale, that the legal owner had no knowledge of any discussions, and that we are aware of the meetings."
"What does that do?"
"It removes him from the equation.
A developer in a grey-area dispute does not want another one.
He'll distance himself from Nathan immediately." A pause.
"It also tells Nathan that you know more than he thought you did."
"Is that good?"
"It's good because it changes his calculation.
Right now he believes he has the advantage — the legal claim, the timeline, the narrative he's built.
When he realizes the anonymous note reached you, and that you've already moved on the information, he'll know the ground has shifted."
"He might come at me harder."
"He might.
Or he might decide the cost is too high." She paused.
"Either way, you want him reacting to you.
Not the other way around."
I thought about it.
"Send the letter."
"I'll have it out today."
I was at the kitchen table when Nathan's key turned in the lock that afternoon.
I hadn't changed the locks yet — Patricia had said to wait until we had a formal notice in place so it couldn't be characterized as obstruction.
I heard him come in, heard him stop in the hallway when he saw me sitting there.
He came to the kitchen doorway.
He looked tired.
Something in his face was different from the party — the careful control was still there, but underneath it something had slipped.
"I need some things from upstairs," he said.
"Go ahead."
He didn't move immediately.
"We should talk."
"Talk to Patricia Hale.
She's my solicitor."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"You've already got a solicitor."
"Yes."
"That was fast."
"I had a good reason to move quickly." I looked at him steadily.
"You should probably also know that I'm aware of the meetings with Gerard Fitch."
The change in his face was immediate.
Small, but immediate.
A flicker behind the eyes.
"I don't know what you—"
"Three meetings.
The folder on the table.
*The owner is being dealt with.*" I kept my voice even.
"Patricia has already been in contact with him."
Nathan said nothing.
"Get what you need from upstairs," I said.
"And then I'd like you to leave."
He stood in the doorway for another moment.
"I did love you," he said.
"I want you to know that.
At the beginning, I did."
I looked at him.
"I know you believe that," I said.
He went upstairs.
I heard him moving around, drawers opening and closing.
Twenty minutes later he came back down with a bag.
He stopped in the hallway.
"I'll be in touch through my solicitor," he said.
"That's the right way to do it."
He left.
I listened to his car start and pull away.
Then I called Carol.
"He came for his things," I said.
"How was it?"
"Quiet." I paused.
"He said he loved me.
At the beginning."
Carol was quiet for a moment.
"What did you say?"
"I said I knew he believed that."
"Good answer."
"I don't know if it was the right one."
"It was the honest one," Carol said.
"That's better."
I sat in the kitchen for a while after that, not doing anything in particular.
The house was very quiet.
Lucas was at school.
The birthday balloons from the party had deflated and I hadn't taken them down yet.
I got up and untied them one by one and put them in the bin.
Then I made a cup of tea and sat back down.
It wasn't over.
There was still the legal claim, the solicitor's letters, the months of process ahead.
There was still the conversation I'd eventually have to have with Lucas about why things had changed.
There was still the anonymous note sitting in a plastic folder in my drawer, from someone I didn't know, for reasons I didn't fully understand.
May you like
But Nathan had walked out of this house with a bag.
And I was still here.
