Chapter 10: The Floor Gives Way
The DA's office had moved faster than any of us expected.
Patricia spread the documents across her conference table.
Arrest warrant.
Fraud charges.
One count of conspiracy to commit theft.
One count of forgery.
And — because of Terrence's documentation — two additional counts related to the 2020 fund restructuring.
"Daniel Marsh was taken into custody this morning at eight-forty," Patricia said.
"His attorney was present.
He said nothing."
I looked at the arrest warrant.
His name in black type.
The date.
The charges listed in the flat, specific language of the law.
"Gerald Foss?" I asked.
"Arrested yesterday evening.
He's already cooperating.
He provided a full account of every document he prepared for Daniel over the past seven years." Patricia paused.
"There are four other victims besides you and Terrence.
Patricia's office is contacting them today."
Six people.
Daniel had done this to six people.
"What about the company?" I asked.
"The Marsh-Wentworth Family Trust is dissolved.
The transferred assets are being returned pending the full audit.
Your company accounts are restored to their pre-transfer state." She looked at me over the top of her reading glasses.
"You will need a new partner, or you will need to restructure.
But the company is yours."
I nodded.
"And my mother?"
Patricia set her pen down.
"The DA has accepted her cooperation agreement.
She will plead guilty to one count of @ssault and one count of attempted theft.
The remaining charges are dropped in exchange for her full testimony." She paused.
"She will receive a suspended sentence and three years of supervised probation.
No prison time, given her age and the evidence that Daniel manipulated her participation."
I sat with that for a moment.
No prison.
Probation.
A guilty plea on record.
"Irene should know before it's finalized," I said.
"Agreed.
That's your conversation to have."
I drove to the hospital.
Irene was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, ready to be discharged.
She looked up when I came in.
"You have that face," she said.
"The one where something happened."
"Several things happened." I sat beside her.
"Daniel was arrested this morning."
She was very still.
"Foss is cooperating.
There are four other victims.
The company accounts are restored." I paused.
"And my mother accepted a cooperation agreement.
She'll plead guilty to the @ssault and the attempted theft.
Suspended sentence.
Probation."
Irene looked at her hands in her lap.
"No prison," she said.
"No prison."
She was quiet for a long time.
I waited.
"Is that because of her age?" she asked.
"Partly.
And because she's testifying against Daniel."
Another silence.
"She was still in that room," Irene said.
"She still did what she did."
"Yes."
"And she'll have a guilty plea on record."
"Yes."
Irene looked up at me.
Her expression was not what I expected.
It wasn't relief, and it wasn't anger.
It was something quieter — the look of someone setting down a weight they had carried so long they had forgotten what their hands felt like empty.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay?"
"It's not what I would have chosen," she said.
"But it's real.
It's on record.
And she has to live with it." She paused.
"That's enough for me."
I took her hand.
The nurse came in with the discharge paperwork.
Irene signed where she was asked to sign.
I carried her bag.
We walked out of the hospital together into a cold, clear afternoon, and she stopped on the sidewalk and tilted her face up toward the sky for a moment, eyes closed.
Then she looked at me.
"Take me home," she said.
"Our home.
Not theirs.
May you like
Ours."
"Yes," I said.
