Chapter 5: Everything Tessa Knew
I told Conrad.
He was on his feet before I finished the sentence.
"Don't agree to anything," he said.
"Don't promise her protection, immunity, or confidentiality.
Just listen."
I put the call on speaker and set the phone on the table between us.
"Ms.
Vane," I said.
"I'm here.
My attorney is also present.
Tell me what you have."
A breath.
Then: "I was hired by Fletcher Pryce six weeks ago through Meridian.
He told me it was a legitimate estate review for a client's upcoming marriage.
He said the trustee had authorized the review but wanted it handled quietly to avoid family conflict." Her voice was steady but tight, the way someone sounds when they have rehearsed something and are still afraid of it.
"I requested the trust documents.
I analyzed the structure.
I drafted the co-trustee petition.
I prepared the notarization package."
"And the signature?" Conrad said.
"Mr.
Pryce provided it.
He said it was a scanned authorization.
I had no reason to—" She stopped.
"I should have verified it independently.
I know that.
I didn't."
"What changed?" I asked.
"Three days ago, after the petition was filed, Mr.
Pryce called me.
He was pleased.
He said the next phase would begin after the wedding and that my fee would double." A pause.
"He used the word phase.
I asked him what the next phase was.
He said it wasn't my concern." Another pause, longer.
"Then he mentioned the boys.
He said that once the co-trusteeship was established, the children's living arrangements would be restructured.
He used that word too.
Restructured.
He said Genevieve had a plan for them that would simplify things considerably."
Conrad and I looked at each other across the table.
"I have copies of every email between myself and Mr.
Pryce," Tessa continued.
"I have the original retainer agreement.
I have the payment records — two wire transfers from a personal account registered to Fletcher Pryce.
I have the draft petition with the version history showing every edit.
And I have a voice recording of the call three days ago." A pause.
"I recorded it because something felt wrong.
I didn't know what yet.
I just knew."
"Where are you now?" Conrad asked.
"A hotel.
I checked in this morning under a different name.
I didn't go back to the office."
Conrad picked up his own phone and typed something.
"I'm sending you a secure upload link.
Send everything to that address in the next thirty minutes.
Do not send it from your regular email.
Use the hotel wifi and a browser you haven't used before." He looked at me.
"Dorian, step out for a moment."
I walked into the hallway.
Through the ceiling above me I could hear Yasmin moving — the soft creak of the floorboards in the nursery, the low murmur of her voice reading something to the boys.
The ordinary sound of it was almost unbearable against everything happening below.
Conrad appeared in the hallway two minutes later.
"She's legitimate.
I've already had someone pull Meridian's registration.
The firm is real, small, and has handled three similar cases in the past four years — all of them involving wealthy widowers or divorcees.
All of them involved a romantic partner.
Two settled quietly.
One didn't." He looked at me carefully.
"Dorian, this is not the first time Genevieve and Pryce have done this."
The wall was very solid behind my back.
I was glad for it.
"How many times?" I said.
"We don't know yet.
But the pattern is specific enough that someone built a business around it." He paused.
"The good news is that Tessa Vane is frightened, she has documentation, and she called you before Pryce realized she was a liability.
The bad news is that Genevieve is now in a car with her phone, and we don't know who else she's calling."
I pushed off the wall.
"I need to call my sister."
"Do that.
And Dorian—" Conrad touched my arm briefly.
"The boys are safe.
That's what matters right now.
Everything else is paperwork."
I nodded.
I went upstairs.
The nursery door was open.
Yasmin was sitting in the low chair between the two cribs, a board book open across her knee.
Everett was already asleep.
Nico was watching the ceiling mobile turn — the one Mallory had chosen, small silver stars on thin wire, catching the afternoon light.
Yasmin looked up when I appeared in the doorway.
Her hair was still damp at the edges from the milk.
She hadn't had time to change.
"Are they all right?" I asked quietly.
"They're fine," she said.
"Everett went down fast.
Nico's almost there."
I stood in the doorway for a moment.
"Yasmin.
What happened this morning — how long has she been like that when I'm away?"
She looked at me for a long time.
Then she looked back at Nico.
"Mr.
Ashcombe.
I need this job.
I have needed it every day for the past eight months.
So I told myself what I saw was stress.
That it would get better after the wedding." She turned the page of the book without reading it.
"I should have told you sooner.
I'm sorry."
"You protected my sons," I said.
"With broken glass on the floor and milk in your hair, you didn't put them down." My voice was not entirely steady.
"Don't apologize to me."
Nico's eyes finally closed.
The mobile turned.
Three silver stars caught the light and released it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
A text from a number I didn't know — different from Tessa's.
*You should ask Genevieve about the woman in Portland.
The one before you.
Her name was Richard Calloway's widow.
Ask what happened to her settlement.*
May you like
I stared at the message.
Then I walked back downstairs.
