Chapter 5: What Diane Didn't Want Found
My attorney's name was Patricia Holt.
She had handled three of my company's acquisition contracts and one partnership dispute that had nearly gone to trial before the other side blinked.
She was sixty-one years old, had short gray hair, and wore reading glasses on a chain she never used for reading.
I was in her office by ten o'clock Monday morning.
"Walk me through the call," she said.
I did.
Word for word, as close as I could remember.
Patricia didn't write anything down while I talked.
She listened with her hands flat on the desk.
When I finished, she said: "She mentioned concealment."
"Yes."
"And your response about the tax returns?"
"Accurate.
Ethan signed every one."
"Good." She picked up her pen.
"The concealment angle won't hold.
But the fact that she went there immediately tells me something."
"That she's worried."
"That she's already spoken to someone.
A family attorney, most likely.
Before she called you." Patricia looked at me over her glasses.
"Diane didn't improvise that line.
Someone gave it to her."
I thought about the seven minutes Ethan had spent on the porch.
"He called her before he came back inside," I said.
"She was already prepared when he put her on speaker."
"Then they had a conversation before that call.
Possibly the night before." Patricia made a note.
"I want full financial disclosure from Ethan's side.
Income, assets, liabilities, everything.
We file for that immediately."
"He's been hosting events at rented properties," I said.
"Presenting them as his own.
The estate last weekend — the owner is a client of mine.
Ethan approached him directly."
Patricia's pen stopped.
"How long has this been going on?"
"I don't know.
That's the first one I'm aware of.
But if he's done it once for a business audience—"
"He's done it before." She set the pen down.
"I want his business records for the last three years.
Bank accounts, credit lines, any LLCs or holding companies registered in his name or a related name." She looked at me.
"Is there anything in your joint accounts I should know about?"
"We've had a joint account for household expenses.
I've kept my business finances entirely separate."
"Has he ever accessed your business accounts?"
"No.
He didn't know they existed."
"He knows now."
"He knows the company exists.
He doesn't have account numbers, access, or any legal connection to Monroe Property Advisory.
It was incorporated before we married."
Patricia leaned back.
"Pre-marital asset.
That's clean." She folded her hands.
"Maren, I want to ask you something directly.
Is there anything — any decision you made, any document you signed, anything involving Ethan's name or finances — that could be used to complicate this?"
I thought carefully.
"Three years ago, Ethan asked me to co-sign a business loan application.
I declined.
He was angry about it for two months."
"Do you know if he found another co-signer?"
"He told me the loan fell through."
Patricia wrote something down.
"I'll want to verify that."
My phone buzzed on her desk.
I turned it over.
A message from a number I didn't recognize.
*You should ask your husband about the Alderman Group before your attorney does.
— A friend.*
I showed it to Patricia without a word.
She read it.
Read it again.
"Do you know what the Alderman Group is?"
May you like
"No," I said.
But from the way her expression shifted, I understood that she might.
