Chapter 6: The Offer They Thought I'd Take
Foss called the next morning.
I forwarded it to Renata without answering.
She called me back twenty minutes later.
"He wants a meeting.
Friday.
His office.
He says his clients are prepared to make a significant gesture of goodwill in exchange for dropping the criminal complaint and the civil claim."
"Goodwill," I said.
"His word."
"What does that mean in real terms?"
"He didn't say.
That's the point.
They want you in the room before they show their hand." A pause.
"I think we should go."
"Why?"
"Because whatever they offer will tell us exactly how scared they are.
And right now, I want to know how scared they are."
We went on Friday.
Foss's office was on the fourteenth floor of a building downtown, all glass and pale wood and the kind of quiet that costs money.
My parents were already seated when we arrived.
Madison was not there.
I noticed that immediately.
Dad stood when we walked in.
He extended his hand.
I looked at it for one beat, then sat down without taking it.
Renata set her briefcase on the table.
"Mr.
Foss.
Let's not waste anyone's time."
Foss smiled.
"Of course." He opened a folder.
"My clients would like to propose the following.
They will cover the full cost of the damages to Bennett & Bloom — verified by the insurance adjuster's report.
They will formally withdraw any connection to the civil claim filed by the private lender.
And they will agree to a period of no contact." He slid a single sheet across the table.
"In exchange, Ms.
Bennett withdraws the criminal complaint and agrees not to pursue further legal action."
I looked at the sheet.
Then I looked at my father.
He was watching me with an expression I recognized.
It was the same expression he had used my entire childhood when he wanted me to agree to something he had already decided.
Patient.
Certain.
Waiting for me to catch up to the conclusion he had already reached.
"Where is Madison?" I said.
Foss answered.
"Ms.
Madison Bennett is not party to this—"
"She was at my kitchen at two in the morning.
Her phone places her there.
She called me the next day and asked if I was ready to be reasonable." I kept my eyes on my father.
"Where is she?"
Dad's jaw moved.
"She's not well.
She's been under a great deal of stress."
"She helped destroy twelve years of my work and she's under stress."
"Claire." His voice dropped into that register.
The one that used to make me stop talking.
"We are trying to fix this."
"You're trying to make this disappear." I slid the sheet back across the table.
"There's a difference."
Renata picked up her briefcase.
"Mr.
Foss, your clients' offer does not address the premeditated nature of the act, the social engineering call made to my client's staff, the anonymous threatening text, or the ongoing civil claim that was filed using my client's personal address — an address that was provided by someone in this room." She stood.
"When your clients are prepared to have a complete conversation, call me."
We were at the elevator before Foss caught up.
"Ms.
Voss.
A moment."
Renata turned.
I stayed beside her.
Foss lowered his voice.
"My clients are prepared to go higher on the damages figure.
Considerably higher.
There is room here."
"There is no figure," Renata said, "that covers a criminal act."
The elevator opened.
We stepped in.
As the doors closed, I saw my father standing in the hallway outside Foss's office.
He wasn't looking at Foss.
May you like
He was looking at me.
For the first time since the dinner where this all began, he looked like a man who was not certain of the outcome.
