Chapter 7: Gerald Fights Back
The fr@ud charges were announced on Thursday.
Gerald's name was in the local news by Friday morning.
I read the article on my phone while Lindsey ate breakfast.
The article was careful — *alleged*, *charged*, *under investigation* — but the facts were plain enough.
Dozens of clients.
Years of diverted funds.
A firm that had existed, on paper, to protect people's savings.
Lindsey looked up from his cereal.
"Is that the man from the café?"
I turned the phone face-down.
"Yes."
"Is he in trouble?"
"Yes."
Lindsey considered this.
"Good," he said, and went back to his cereal.
Frank called at ten.
"Have you seen the news?"
"Yes."
"Gerald's attorney issued a statement this morning.
He's calling it a politically motivated prosecution.
Says the evidence was obtained improperly." Frank paused.
"He also mentioned, specifically, that certain physical evidence had been in the unsupervised possession of a private individual for over a year."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"He's already going after the box."
"He's going after you," Frank said.
"Solis called me twenty minutes ago.
Gerald's attorney has filed a motion to suppress the USB drive and the notebooks.
He's claiming chain of custody was broken."
"Can he win that motion?"
"Solis says it's unlikely, but it will slow things down.
And—" Frank stopped.
"And what?"
"Gerald made bail this morning."
I sat down.
"He posted it an hour ago," Frank said.
"Solis says there are conditions — he can't leave the state, he has to surrender his passport.
But he's out."
I looked at the hallway.
Lindsey's backpack was by the door, one strap trailing on the floor.
"Frank," I said.
"He knows where I live."
"I know.
Solis knows.
There will be a patrol car on your street tonight."
That afternoon, Gerald called me.
I didn't know the number.
I almost didn't answer.
Something made me pick up.
"Mrs.
Hartwell." His voice was smooth.
Unhurried.
The voice of a man who had spent years reassuring people while he emptied their accounts.
"I think it's time we spoke directly."
"I don't think it is," I said.
"I understand you've been speaking with Detective Solis.
I understand you've handed over some items that belonged to my former partner." A pause.
"I want you to know that I bear you no ill will.
You're a grieving woman.
You've been manipulated by people who want to use your loss for their own purposes."
"Which people?"
"Frank Calloway, for one.
Did he tell you he was Daniel's silent investor?
Did he tell you he stood to lose a significant amount of money when the firm was investigated?
Did he tell you he had his own reasons for wanting me charged?"
I said nothing.
"I'm not your enemy, Mrs.
Hartwell.
I was Daniel's partner for six years.
I was at his wedding.
I knew your daughter." His voice softened in a way that made my skin crawl.
"I would like to meet with you.
Just to talk.
Before this goes any further and people get hurt who don't deserve to be."
"People like Lindsey?" I said.
A beat of silence.
"I only meant—"
"I know what you meant," I said.
"Don't call this number again."
I hung up and called Solis immediately.
She picked up on the second ring.
"He called you," she said.
It wasn't a question.
"You knew he would?"
"We thought he might.
Did he threaten you?"
"He mentioned Lindsey.
He said 'people getting hurt.'"
"I'm recording this call," she said.
"Tell me everything he said.
Word for word."
I told her.
Every word.
When I finished, she was quiet for a moment.
"Mrs.
Hartwell," she said.
"The USB drive.
Our forensics team opened it this morning." Another pause.
"Daniel was thorough.
May you like
Very thorough.
Gerald's attorney is going to have a much harder morning tomorrow than he had today."
