Chapter 6: What the Portfolio Contained
After Jared and Lauren stepped into the hallway, Carol Marsh closed the apartment door.
She stopped being Carol Marsh.
"Special Agent Diane Marsh," she said quietly, showing me her credentials.
"Raymond sends his regards." She picked up the portfolio and unzipped it.
"How are you holding up?"
"Fine," I said.
"She almost had him."
"She's good at this." Agent Marsh laid the three documents on the table and photographed each one with her phone.
"This is the guardianship petition.
This is a healthcare proxy.
And this—" she held up the third page "—is a revised trust amendment that would have given her sole discretionary authority over all remaining trust assets."
"Jared didn't know what he was bringing her to sign."
"No.
He thought it was a care plan." She slid the documents back into the portfolio.
"Curtis Vane notarized all three.
Same stamp, same signature block as the original authorization form." She zipped the portfolio closed and set it exactly where Lauren had left it.
"We have enough for the warrant.
Raymond's team is filing this afternoon."
A knock at the door.
Jared's voice from the hallway.
"Everything okay in there?"
Agent Marsh raised her voice to a normal, pleasant register.
"Just finishing up, Mr.
Blake.
Thank you for your patience."
She looked at me.
"When I open that door," she said quietly, "Lauren is going to know something is wrong.
She may try to leave.
She may say something to Jared designed to discredit you before she goes." She paused.
"Whatever she says — don't react.
Let her talk."
"I've been letting her talk for three years," I said.
Agent Marsh almost smiled.
She opened the door.
Jared came back in first.
Lauren followed, one step slower than usual.
Her eyes went immediately to the portfolio on the table.
She crossed the room and picked it up.
"Everything in order?" she asked Agent Marsh.
"Mr.
Blake is in excellent health," Agent Marsh said.
"Cognitively sharp.
No concerns at all." She made a note on her clipboard.
"I'll file my report with the county office.
You should receive a copy within a few days."
Lauren's expression did not change.
But her thumb pressed hard against the portfolio strap.
"Thank you for coming," she said.
"Of course." Agent Marsh picked up her clipboard.
She paused at the door and turned back toward me.
"Mr.
Blake, do you have everything you need today?"
"I do," I said.
"Thank you, Carol."
She left.
The three of us stood in the apartment.
Jared looked at me.
Then at Lauren.
Then at the portfolio in her hand.
"Lauren," he said slowly.
"What exactly was in those documents?"
"I told you.
Care planning paperwork."
"She said one of them was a trust amendment."
"It's standard—"
"A trust amendment is not standard care planning." His voice had changed.
Something in it had gone flat and careful, the way it used to sound when he was working through a problem at his desk.
"Show me the documents."
"Jared, this isn't the time—"
"Show me the documents, Lauren."
She looked at him for a long moment.
Then she unzipped the portfolio.
She laid the three pages on the table.
Jared picked up the trust amendment first.
He read it slowly.
He set it down.
He picked up the guardianship petition.
He read that too.
He did not look at Lauren while he read.
When he finished, he set the pages down very carefully, the way a person sets something down when their hands are not entirely steady.
"This gives you complete control," he said.
"Over everything.
His money.
His medical decisions.
His living arrangements." He looked up.
"This is not a care plan."
"It's protection—"
"For who?"
The apartment was very quiet.
Lauren straightened.
"Jared," she said, and her voice shifted into something softer, something practiced.
"Your father is not well.
I know this is hard to accept.
But I have been watching him deteriorate for months, and someone needs to make the difficult decisions that he can no longer make for himself.
I have been doing this alone because I didn't want to burden you.
Because I love you.
Because I love your family."
Jared looked at me.
I said nothing.
I let him look.
He saw the soup on the table.
He saw the space heater in the corner.
He saw the peeling paint he had seen on Father's Day and every other time he had visited this apartment in three years.
"You told me he was in a senior residence downtown," Jared said.
"Months ago."
"He left—"
"Lauren." His voice was very quiet now.
"He's been here for three years.
I can see that.
Anyone can see that." He picked up the trust amendment again.
"Who is Curtis Vane?"
Lauren went still.
"The notary," Jared said.
"His name is on all three documents.
May you like
And on the original trust authorization." He set the page down.
"Who is he?"
