Chapter 7: The Morning Gerald Foss Stopped Returning Calls
Patricia called me the next morning at eight-fifteen.
"I've listened to the recording three times," she said.
"I want you to understand what Vanessa did."
"She threatened me."
"She committed witness tampering and made an explicit threat to introduce irrelevant medical information in a custody proceeding for the purpose of coercion.
In North Carolina, that recording is admissible.
And I intend to use it."
"Will it affect Nathan's case?"
"It affects everything.
Gerald Foss is a competent attorney.
When I send him this recording this morning, he is going to have a very difficult conversation with his client about what his sister just did." Patricia paused.
"Emily, I've been doing this for twenty-three years.
When a party's family member makes a threat like this on a recorded line, the case changes.
Judges remember it."
She sent the recording to Gerald Foss at nine o'clock.
By eleven, Nathan called me.
His voice was different.
The steadiness was gone.
"What did Vanessa say to you?"
"You should ask her."
"I'm asking you."
"Nathan, I'm not going to describe it to you.
Your attorney has the recording."
A long silence.
"She didn't mean it."
"She said it."
"She was scared.
She's been scared for months.
The business is in serious trouble.
My mother's mortgage is three payments behind.
Vanessa has been trying to hold everything together and she—" He stopped.
"She shouldn't have said it."
"No.
She shouldn't have."
"Emily." His voice broke slightly on my name.
"I know I handled this wrong.
I know I should have told you about my mother.
I know I should have—" He stopped again.
"I didn't know how to ask you.
After everything Vanessa had said to you over the years, I didn't think you'd help."
"You didn't give me the chance to decide."
"I know."
"You took my money without asking.
You let your sister go through my financial records.
You let her threaten me with my own grief." My voice stayed even.
"And every time she humiliated me at my own table, you told me not to make it worse."
He didn't say anything for a long time.
"I'm sorry," he said finally.
It was the first time in twelve years he had said it without a qualifier attached.
"I know," I said.
"It's too late, Nathan.
But I know."
Gerald Foss sent a new letter that afternoon.
The investment portfolio settlement offer was withdrawn.
Nathan was now proposing full financial disclosure in exchange for a negotiated division of assets, with no custody dispute.
He was surrendering the fight.
But Vanessa wasn't finished.
Two days later, my studio manager called me.
"Emily.
Someone called the office this morning asking questions about our tax filings.
They said they were from the IRS."
My chest tightened.
"Did they leave a name?"
"No.
They asked whether you had a separate business account that wasn't disclosed to your spouse.
Then they hung up."
It wasn't the IRS.
It was Vanessa.
May you like
Or someone she had sent.
And she had just made the second mistake of her life.
