Chapter 5: Everything They Built on Paper
Grace called me back in thirty-one hours, not forty-eight.
I stepped into the corridor outside Lily's room to take it.
"Briggs," she said.
"He's been on the Alderman family's payroll for six years.
Not directly — it's routed through a property management company his brother-in-law owns.
But it's there.
Three payments a year, regular as a utility bill."
"You found it that fast?"
"I had help.
And I had a hunch." She paused.
"He's signed four orders in the last three years that directly benefited Richard Alderman or his father's business interests.
Two of them involved suppressing civil complaints.
One was a restraining order filed against Lily that was granted in under four hours with no hearing."
I hadn't known about the restraining order.
"She never told me," I said.
"It was filed eight months ago and withdrawn two weeks later.
My guess is it was used as leverage.
A warning." Grace's voice was steady.
"Richard showed her what he could do."
I stood very still in that corridor.
"Is Briggs reachable?" I said.
"He's already been contacted by my office.
Informally, for now.
He knows someone is looking.
His clerk called Richard's attorney this morning."
"So Richard knows."
"Richard knows someone is asking questions.
He doesn't know how much we have." A pause.
"He's going to move.
Probably today.
I'd expect him to try to get to Lily directly, or to file something through a different court before we can establish jurisdiction."
"What do we need to stop that?"
"I need Lily's formal statement.
Signed and witnessed.
And I need her to consent to the recordings being used.
Today."
"I'll have it to you within the hour."
"There's one more thing," Grace said.
"The police chief.
His name came up in a separate context.
There's an open inquiry at the state level — unrelated to your daughter — involving evidence handling in a domestic @buse case from two years ago.
A woman filed a complaint.
It went nowhere locally."
"Because of him."
"That's what the state investigator believes.
Your situation gives them a second data point." She paused.
"If you're willing, I'd like to connect you with that investigator."
"Give me the name."
She did.
I wrote it down.
When I went back into Lily's room, she was sitting up with her hands folded in her lap.
She looked at me and said, "You have your notebook out."
"I need you to give a formal statement.
Today.
A lawyer will come here to take it."
She didn't hesitate.
"All right."
"Lily.
There's something I didn't know.
A restraining order.
Eight months ago."
Her jaw tightened.
"He told me if I ever showed it to anyone he would have me committed.
He said he had the paperwork ready.
That all he had to do was make one call." She looked at the window.
"I believed him."
"You were right to believe him.
He had the judge.
He had the police chief.
He had his family around him." I sat down.
"But he built all of it on paper.
And paper can be read by the wrong people."
She turned back to me.
"Is that what's happening now?"
"The right people are reading it."
The lawyer Grace sent was a woman named Patricia Holt.
She arrived at two in the afternoon with a paralegal and a quiet, no-nonsense manner that immediately put Lily at ease.
I waited outside while they worked.
An hour and twenty minutes later, Patricia came out.
"She's thorough," Patricia said.
"The statement is detailed, specific, and corroborated by the recordings at multiple points." She handed me a sealed envelope.
"For your federal contact."
"Thank you."
"Mr.—" She stopped.
"I don't actually know your name."
"That's fine," I said.
She looked at me for a moment.
"Your daughter is very brave."
"I know."
Patricia left.
I went back in.
Lily was lying down, looking more tired than before but also somehow lighter, as if the statement had taken weight off her rather than adding it.
"Is it enough?" she said.
"It's enough to start."
"Richard's lawyer called the nurses' station while Patricia was here.
They told him visiting hours were restricted per physician's orders." She paused.
"Was that you?"
"Dr.
Okafor was very understanding."
Lily almost laughed.
It was a small sound, half-formed, but it was there.
Then her phone — the replacement I had bought her that morning — lit up on the bedside table.
She looked at the screen.
Her face changed.
"It's his mother," she said.
I held out my hand.
"May I?"
She gave me the phone.
I answered it.
Eleanor Alderman's voice was exactly as I remembered from the driveway.
Controlled.
Expensive.
Accustomed to being the most important person in any room.
"I'd like to speak to Lily," she said.
"Lily is resting."
A pause.
"Who is this?"
"Her father."
Another pause.
Longer.
"I think we should meet," Eleanor said.
"Just the two of us.
I believe there's been a misunderstanding, and I'd like the opportunity to clear it up before this goes any further."
"There's no misunderstanding, Mrs.
Alderman."
"You don't know what you're involved in."
"I know exactly what I'm involved in."
Her voice dropped half a register.
"My son has made mistakes.
I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
But what you're doing — involving federal contacts, making calls — you're going to destroy a family over a private matter that can be resolved quietly."
"It stopped being a private matter when your son h*rt my daughter."
"I can offer—"
"Don't," I said.
"Whatever you're about to offer, don't.
Because the moment you do, that offer becomes part of the record."
Silence.
"I'll be in touch," I said.
And I ended the call.
Lily was watching me.
"She was going to offer you money," she said.
"Yes."
"Would it have worked?
On anyone else?"
I set the phone back on the table.
"It worked on a judge.
It worked on a police chief.
It worked on a doctor and a lawyer and probably half a dozen other people over the years." I looked at her.
"That's why they thought it would work on everyone."
Lily's eyes were steady on mine.
"What happens now?" she said.
Before I could answer, my own phone buzzed.
A text from Marcus.
May you like
Four words.
*Richard just left town.*
