Chapter 7: What Richard Was Planning
"He's filing for an emergency injunction," Diane said.
"First thing tomorrow.
His lawyer found a clause — or thinks he found one — in the original property transfer.
Something about the transfer being conditional on the marriage lasting a minimum period.
Richard is arguing that two days doesn't qualify."
"That's not what the document says," I said.
"Mr.
Calloway was very clear."
"Richard's lawyer is saying it's ambiguous.
They're going to ask a judge to freeze the account and the deed pending review.
If they get the freeze, you won't be able to access anything while the case drags on.
Richard is betting you don't have the money or the patience to fight it for two years."
Carol was watching my face.
I put the phone on speaker and set it on the table between us.
"Diane," I said, "how do you know all of this?"
"Because Susan called me tonight.
She and Richard had a fight about it.
She thinks what he's doing is wrong.
She found my number through our father's papers after he passed — Walter left her a letter too, telling her about me.
She's been in contact with me for about three weeks." A pause.
"She's not like Richard.
She's scared of him, a little.
But she's not like him."
"Why did you put the note in the box?"
Silence for a moment.
"I had a key to the garage.
Dad gave it to me two years ago when he told me about you.
He showed me everything — the photographs, the passbook, all of it.
He wanted me to understand who you were before he was gone." Her voice shifted slightly.
"He talked about you the way people talk about something they lost and never got over.
I wanted to meet you before Richard got to you first and made you think the worst of everyone connected to our father's name."
Carol leaned forward.
"Can you prove what Richard is planning?
In writing?"
"Susan has the email chain between Richard and his lawyer.
She forwarded it to me an hour ago."
"Then forward it to me," I said.
I gave her Mr.
Calloway's email address.
"He needs to see it tonight."
"Already done," Diane said.
"I sent it to him twenty minutes ago.
I found his contact information on the county filing."
I looked at Carol.
Carol looked at me.
"Diane," I said, "why are you doing this?"
The pause this time was longer.
"Because my father spent fifty years making sure you were taken care of," she said.
"I'm not going to let Richard undo that in forty-eight hours." Another breath.
"And because he was my father too.
And this is the last thing he asked of the world.
I'd like it to go the way he wanted."
I didn't say anything for a moment.
There was too much to feel all at once.
"Will you meet me?" I asked.
"In person?"
"Yes," she said.
"I was hoping you'd ask."
We agreed on the following morning, before the courthouse opened.
Carol's kitchen.
Eight o'clock.
After I hung up, Carol sat back in her chair and looked at the ceiling.
"Walter had a third child," she said.
"Yes."
"Who has been protecting you since before you even knew she existed."
"Yes."
Carol was quiet for a moment.
Then: "Mom, Mr.
Calloway needs to know about the injunction tonight.
Not tomorrow."
I was already dialing.
He answered on the third ring, and I could hear from his voice that he had already read Diane's email.
"I've seen it," he said.
"Margaret, I need you to listen carefully.
The clause Richard's attorney is referencing does not say what they claim it says.
But a judge seeing it cold, without context, might grant a temporary freeze simply out of caution.
We need to get ahead of this." A pause.
"I'm going to call a colleague tonight.
She handles exactly this kind of challenge.
If you're willing, I'd like her in the room tomorrow."
"Do whatever you need to do," I said.
"There's one more thing," Mr.
Calloway said.
"The email chain Diane forwarded — Richard's attorney references a witness.
Someone who claims to have been present during one of your visits to Walter in the hospital.
Someone who is prepared to testify that you pressured Walter during a period of diminished capacity."
The kitchen went very quiet.
"Who?" I said.
Mr.
Calloway read the name.
I set the phone down on the table.
My hand was steady.
My chest was not.
It was the name of the hospital chaplain — the man who had prayed with us the morning of our wedding.
The man Walter had specifically asked to be present.
May you like
The man who had held Walter's hand and called him a good soul.
He was going to testify against me.
