Chapter 6: What Her Father Didn't Expect
I slept on the couch that night with the door locked from the inside and my phone on the cushion beside me.
Victoria didn't try the door.
The house was quiet in the way that feels less like peace and more like two people waiting.
At nine the next morning I was sitting across from Patricia Osei in her office on the fourteenth floor of a building downtown.
She was exactly as Tom had described — calm, precise, and completely unhurried.
She read through the investigator's report without expression, set it down, and picked up the photographs.
"The holding company is registered in Nevada," she said.
"That's deliberate.
Harder to pierce quickly." She set the photographs down.
"But not impossible.
Especially with this." She tapped the investigator's summary.
"R.
Calloway is credible.
I've seen his work before."
"Victoria's father is calling his attorneys this morning," I said.
"I know who they are," Patricia said.
"They'll file a challenge to the trust amendment first.
That's the opening move — discredit the grandfather, establish undue influence, try to freeze the estate assets before anything can be distributed." She looked at me.
"The amendment is solid.
I've already spoken to Whitmore this morning."
"You called them already?"
"At eight," she said.
"The amendment was witnessed by two independent parties and notarized by someone who has no prior relationship with your grandfather-in-law.
The undue influence argument will not survive scrutiny.
They know that.
The challenge is a delay tactic."
"To give Victoria time."
"To give Victoria time," she confirmed.
"She'll file for divorce today or tomorrow.
Her goal is to establish her version of the asset transfers before you can establish yours.
The email she sent from your account last night — we'll need the full header data.
I've drafted a preservation request for your email provider.
Sign here."
I signed.
"The joint account," she continued.
"How much was in it originally?"
"Around sixty-two thousand," I said.
"We put it together over three years.
My contributions were roughly forty percent."
"And now?"
"The report says it's nearly empty.
I haven't looked."
She turned her laptop toward me.
"Look now.
I want the current balance documented while you're in this office."
I logged in.
The balance was four hundred and twelve dollars.
Patricia wrote the number down without comment.
"She moved the rest in four transfers over six weeks," she said, reading from the report.
"Small enough not to trigger automatic alerts.
Methodical." She closed her notepad.
"This wasn't impulsive.
This was planned well before she disappeared to Scottsdale."
The door to Patricia's office opened.
Her assistant leaned in.
"I'm sorry to interrupt.
There's a man in the lobby asking to speak with Mr.
Marsh directly.
He says he's the father.
He doesn't have an appointment."
Patricia looked at me.
"Do you want to speak with him?" she asked.
I thought about it.
Victoria's father, Richard, had always treated me with a particular brand of polite contempt — never rude enough to confront, never warm enough to mistake for kindness.
He was the kind of man who shook your hand and looked slightly past your shoulder while doing it.
"Yes," I said.
"But in here.
With you present."
Richard walked in two minutes later.
He was dressed for a board meeting, which told me he'd come directly from somewhere that mattered to him more than this did.
He looked at Patricia, then at me, then at the documents spread across the desk.
"Daniel," he said.
"I'd like to speak with you privately."
"Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my attorney," I said.
Something moved across his face.
He wasn't used to that sentence coming from me.
He sat down in the chair beside me without being invited to.
"My father has made a serious mistake," he said.
"He's an old man.
He's grieving.
He's not thinking clearly, and the people around him have taken advantage of that." He looked at me when he said it — not accusatory, just stating a fact he expected me to accept.
"I'm asking you, man to man, to step back from this.
Return what he's offered you, let the family handle the estate the way it was always meant to be handled, and we'll make sure you're treated fairly in the divorce settlement."
"Fairly," I said.
"Fairly," he repeated.
"You'll be looked after.
You won't leave this marriage with nothing."
I looked at him for a moment.
"Richard," I said, "your daughter emptied a joint account that had my money in it.
She moved family assets into a holding company registered to another man.
She accessed my email account and sent a message in my name." I picked up my phone and showed him the photograph of the screen.
"Last night.
While she was on the phone with you."
He looked at the photograph.
His expression didn't change, but his eyes stayed on it a half-second too long.
He knew.
Or he'd suspected.
"I'm not stepping back," I said.
"And I'm not negotiating through you."
He stood.
Straightened his jacket.
Looked at Patricia.
"You'll be hearing from our attorneys," he said.
"We look forward to it," Patricia said pleasantly.
He left.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Patricia picked up her pen.
"He came here to see how much you knew," she said.
"Now he knows you know everything." She made a note.
"That means Victoria will file today.
Probably before noon."
May you like
She was right.
The notification from the court came through at eleven forty-seven.
