Chapter 8: What Margaret Was Willing to Do
The call Margaret made was not to a lawyer.
Emma found out what it was at 7:40 the next morning, when a woman she had never met was standing on the front step of her apartment.
The woman was in her forties, plain coat, clipboard, lanyard with a government logo Emma didn't immediately recognize.
"Ms.
Emma Reyes?" the woman said.
"Yes."
"I'm from the county child welfare office.
We've received a report regarding the welfare of a child in your care — Olivia Ashworth, age seven." She held up her clipboard.
"I'm required to conduct an initial visit.
May I come in?"
Emma stood in the doorway for a moment.
She was in her work clothes.
Olivia was in the kitchen eating toast.
"Who filed the report?" Emma asked.
"I'm not able to share that information."
"Was it filed yesterday?"
The woman glanced at her clipboard.
"The report was received at 4:17 p.m.
yesterday."
Forty-five minutes after the asset freeze notification.
Thirty-two minutes after Daniel's statement went to the journalist.
"Come in," Emma said.
She stepped back and let the woman through.
Then she walked to the kitchen doorway.
"Olivia," she said, keeping her voice easy.
"Finish your toast.
A lady from the government is here to visit.
She just wants to see that everything's nice."
Olivia looked up.
"Like an inspector?"
"Exactly like an inspector."
Olivia straightened in her chair and wiped her mouth with her napkin.
"Okay."
The welfare officer — her name was Ms.
Doran — spent forty minutes in the apartment.
She looked at Olivia's bedroom, her school bag, her bookshelf.
She asked Olivia three questions: what she had eaten for dinner, whether she felt safe at home, and what her favorite subject at school was.
Olivia said pasta, yes, and reading.
Ms.
Doran wrote things down.
She did not appear hostile.
She also did not appear warm.
When Olivia went to brush her teeth, Ms.
Doran turned to Emma.
"The report alleged that the child is living in an unstable environment following a domestic incident yesterday morning.
It also alleged that the child's primary caregiver has a history of financial disputes with the child's paternal family that may be affecting the child's wellbeing."
Emma looked at her.
"Is there anything in this apartment that suggests instability to you?"
Ms.
Doran looked around the kitchen.
Clean.
Organized.
A drawing on the refrigerator — the rolled paper from yesterday, now unrolled and held up with two magnets.
A house with four windows and a garden and a sun in the corner.
"No," Ms.
Doran said.
"Then I'd like to know what happens next."
"I'll file my initial report today.
Given what I've observed, I'll recommend no further action at this time.
However, the report remains on file and a follow-up visit may be scheduled within thirty days."
"Meaning someone can file another report in thirty days and trigger another visit."
Ms.
Doran met her eyes.
"That is how the system works, yes."
After she left, Emma called Grace.
"Child welfare report," Emma said.
"Filed at 4:17 yesterday."
Grace was quiet for exactly two seconds.
"She's trying to establish a pattern.
One report is nothing.
Two reports, three reports — it starts to look like a pattern of concern.
And a pattern of concern can be used in a custody argument."
"Olivia is not in a custody dispute.
Daniel has never sought custody."
"He might be asked to.
Or Margaret might petition for grandparent custody rights on the grounds that the mother's home is under repeated welfare investigation." Grace paused.
"It's not likely to succeed.
But it doesn't need to succeed.
It needs to frighten you into settling."
Emma looked at the drawing on the refrigerator.
The house.
The garden.
The sun.
"I'm not settling," she said.
"I know.
But Emma — we need to move from defense to offense.
Today." Grace's voice was sharp now, focused.
"I've been reviewing the probate records from when Robert Ashworth died.
Daniel's father.
There are two signatures on the asset transfer documents that I cannot account for.
One of them appears to be a witness signature.
The other is a notary stamp from an office that closed eighteen months before the documents were filed."
Emma went still.
"That's not possible."
"No," Grace said.
"It isn't.
Which means those documents were backdated.
Which means the transfers Margaret made after Robert died — the ones that gave her control of the estate — may have been made on the basis of forged paperwork."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"If that's true," Emma said slowly, "then Margaret didn't inherit control of the estate.
She took it."
"Yes."
"From Daniel."
"Yes."
"And from Olivia."
"From both of them." Grace let that sit for a moment.
"I've requested a forensic document examiner.
I need three days."
"We have three days," Emma said.
"But Grace — if she finds out we have the probate records—"
"She already knows.
She filed a motion this morning to have them resealed." Grace's voice was dry.
"Which tells us everything we need to know about what's in them."
Emma hung up.
She stood in the kitchen for a long moment.
Then she took Olivia's drawing off the refrigerator, rolled it carefully, and put it in the drawer where she kept the important things.
May you like
She didn't want it where anyone could see it.
Not yet.
