Chapter 7: The Thing He Did Next
I had expected Daniel to hire someone expensive.
What I had not expected was for him to hire someone who would call Patricia directly and open with an offer.
Patricia called me on Wednesday afternoon.
"His attorney reached out," she said.
"They want to settle.
Quickly."
"How quickly?"
"Before any court dates are set.
Before any financial disclosure is formally ordered." A pause.
"That tells us something."
"He's afraid of what the accountant will find."
"That's my read." I heard her set something down.
"The offer is the house, primary custody to you, and a lump sum of forty thousand dollars."
I sat with that for a moment.
"What's the house worth?"
"In the current market, roughly three-eighty.
You have about two-twenty left on the mortgage."
"So he's offering me the house and forty thousand dollars to close this before anyone looks too closely at the accounts."
"Yes."
"What do you think he's hiding?"
"I think the fifteen thousand we already know about is not the whole number." Her voice was steady.
"I think if we let the forensic accountant finish, we're going to find more.
Possibly significantly more."
"Then we don't settle."
A brief pause.
"Jennifer, I want to make sure you understand what that means.
If we push for full disclosure, he's going to fight.
His attorney is good.
It will take longer.
It will cost more.
And he may try to make things difficult in other ways."
"What other ways?"
"He may challenge your fitness as a primary parent.
He may bring up your work schedule, your stress levels, the fact that you've been — his words, through his attorney — 'emotionally volatile' since the birth."
I thought about the banquet room.
The folder on the table.
The bill I had pushed back across the tablecloth.
"Emotionally volatile," I said.
"Yes."
"He told a pregnant woman to deny his child's paternity in writing.
And I'm the volatile one."
"I know." Patricia's voice was dry.
"I'm just preparing you."
"Tell his attorney no," I said.
"Tell them we'll see them in disclosure."
She made a note.
I could hear the scratch of her pen.
"There's one more thing," she said.
"His uncle called my office this morning.
Robert.
He said he wanted to speak with you directly if you were willing."
I remembered Robert standing up at the table.
*I've known you since you were eight years old.*
"What does he want?"
"He didn't say specifically.
He said he had information he thought you should have.
He said it wasn't about the money."
The back of my neck went tight.
"Set it up," I said.
"This week if possible."
Robert came to Patricia's office on Thursday.
He was a tall man, quieter in a small room than he had seemed at the table.
He sat across from me and folded his hands and looked like someone who had not slept well in several days.
"I owe you an apology," he said.
"You don't," I said.
"You walked out.
That was enough."
"I knew something was wrong." He looked at his hands.
"Not the details.
But I knew.
About eight months ago, Daniel asked me for money.
He said it was for a business opportunity.
I gave him twelve thousand dollars." He paused.
"He said he'd pay it back within ninety days.
He hasn't mentioned it since."
I looked at Patricia.
She was writing.
"Did he tell you what the business opportunity was?" I asked.
"He was vague.
He said it was a private investment.
Something he couldn't discuss yet." Robert looked up.
"I didn't push.
He's family.
I trusted him." His jaw tightened.
"I'd like to know where that money went."
"So would we," Patricia said.
Robert reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded bank receipt.
He set it on the desk.
"That's the wire transfer," he said.
"To Daniel's personal account.
Not the joint account.
His personal one."
Patricia picked it up.
I looked at Robert.
"Why are you bringing this to us?" I asked.
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because I went downstairs at the hotel," he said.
"I sat with Chloe for about an hour.
She's not a bad person.
She's a person who was lied to." He paused.
"And she's eight and a half months pregnant with my great-nephew or great-niece, sitting in a hotel lobby alone, because my nephew told her to stay quiet and trust him." He shook his head.
"I have a daughter.
She's thirty-two.
I keep thinking about what I would want someone to do if it were her."
The room was quiet.
"Thank you," I said.
He nodded once.
He stood, shook Patricia's hand, then mine.
At the door he stopped.
"He's going to tell you I'm doing this because of the money," he said.
"Because I want the twelve thousand back and I'm using you to get it." He looked at me steadily.
"I want you to know that's not why."
"I know," I said.
He left.
Patricia set her pen down and looked at the wire transfer receipt.
"A personal account," she said.
"Yes."
"That we didn't know about."
"No."
She picked up her phone.
"I'm calling the accountant."
I sat back in my chair.
Twelve thousand from Robert.
Fifteen thousand to Chloe that we already knew about.
A personal account that hadn't appeared in any of the records Daniel had voluntarily provided.
He had offered me forty thousand dollars to close the case before anyone looked too closely.
Now I understood why.
Patricia was still on the phone when my own phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
The first since Monday's call.
*I know Robert came to see you.
Whatever he told you, he's not doing this out of kindness.
He wants his money back and he's using you to get it.
Don't be naive.*
I set the phone face-down on the desk.
Patricia finished her call and looked at me.
"The accountant is going to need another week," she said.
"But she thinks there may be a second account.
Possibly a third."
I nodded slowly.
"He offered me forty thousand to walk away," I said.
"Yes."
"How much do you think is actually there?"
May you like
Patricia looked at the wire transfer receipt on her desk.
"Enough," she said, "that he's very, very afraid of us finding it."
