Chapter 6: What He Did When He Realized He Was Losing
Brandon showed up at Lawson's office the next morning without an appointment.
Lawson called me from the hallway while Brandon waited in reception.
"He has a man with him.
Introduced himself as Douglas Merritt, private attorney out of Houston.
Expensive suit.
Brought a briefcase."
"What does he want?"
"He's asking for a meeting.
Says Brandon wants to discuss a settlement."
I looked at the window in my hotel room.
The Austin skyline was flat and bright.
"Set it up," I said.
"One hour."
---
Douglas Merritt did most of the talking.
He was polished in the way that costs money — every sentence measured, every pause deliberate.
Brandon sat beside him and said almost nothing, which was new.
"My client acknowledges that certain administrative decisions regarding the Collins property were made without full transparency," Merritt began.
"Fraud," Lawson said pleasantly.
"The word you're looking for is fraud."
Merritt didn't blink.
"My client is prepared to return operational control of the ranch to Mrs.
Collins immediately, along with a financial settlement to cover any income discrepancy during the period in question."
"What figure?" Lawson asked.
"Two hundred thousand."
The room was quiet.
"The lease income alone over six years was nearly five hundred thousand," Lawson said.
"That's before we calculate the value of the forged trust transfer, the notary fraud, or the emotional and physical harm done to Emily Collins."
"Emily Collins was a willing participant in—"
"Emily Collins has two incorrectly healed ribs and a medical record documenting years of malnourishment." Lawson's voice didn't rise.
"I'd choose your next sentence carefully."
Merritt glanced at Brandon.
Brandon looked at the table.
"My client is also prepared," Merritt continued, "to provide information about other parties involved in the document preparation.
In exchange for a reduced exposure agreement."
I leaned forward slightly.
"He wants to give up Carla Voss."
Merritt's expression didn't change, but something shifted behind it.
"My client has information that would be of significant value to the ongoing investigation."
"Then he can share it with Detective Tillman," I said.
"Directly.
Without conditions attached to my case."
"Mrs.
Collins, I'd encourage you to consider—"
"I have considered." I stood up.
"My answer is no."
Brandon looked up for the first time.
The performance was gone entirely now.
What was underneath it was something I recognized — not remorse.
Fear.
"Mom." His voice was quiet.
"If this goes to trial, everything comes out.
Everything.
Including things about Dad's estate that you don't know yet."
I looked at him.
"Then it comes out," I said.
He stared at me.
"I'm your son."
"I know who you are," I said.
"I also know what you did."
I picked up my bag.
Lawson was already on his feet.
Merritt called after us.
"Mrs.
Collins, a trial will take years.
The cost alone—"
"Send any further communication to Mr.
Lawson," I said without turning around.
The door closed behind us.
In the hallway, Lawson exhaled.
"He's going to try something else," he said.
"I know."
"Are you ready for that?"
I thought about Emily in the hospital bed.
About Roy Hatch and his envelope of photographs.
About Carol Reyes in Denver who had spent six years thinking her daughter had abandoned her.
"Yes," I said.
"I am."
That evening, Tillman called.
The warrant had been approved.
They were executing it in the morning.
She paused before she hung up.
"Mrs.
Collins — he tried to transfer the ranch title again this afternoon.
Electronic filing.
We caught it."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"He tried to move it while we were sitting in that meeting."
"Yes," Tillman said.
"The filing was flagged and blocked.
But I wanted you to know."
I sat with that for a long time after she hung up.
He had smiled at me across that table.
May you like
He had called me Mom.
And the whole time, he had been trying to finish what he started.
