Chapter 6: What Two Years of Patience Builds
Nathaniel called Marcus from the car.
"Harmon has documentation," he said.
"Emails, wire transfers, written instructions from Clifton Voss.
I have the originals.
I need you to make copies tonight and get them to your DA contact first thing tomorrow."
"How solid is it?"
"Solid enough that Isabella called him this morning to warn him to stay quiet — and she referenced the incident at the penthouse before it could have been reported anywhere."
A pause.
"That's a problem for her," Marcus said.
"I need everything on Gerald Fitch.
Every case he's handled with a similar structure.
The two women you mentioned — I want names, I want dates, I want to know what happened to their estates."
"Nathaniel." Marcus's voice shifted.
"If this is what it looks like — if there are prior victims — this stops being a civil matter."
"I know what it is."
"Your mother needs to make a formal statement.
Tonight, if possible.
While the details are fresh and before Isabella's side has time to build a counter-narrative."
"I'll bring her in tomorrow morning."
"And Isabella?
Do you know where she went?"
Nathaniel hadn't thought about it until that moment.
She had walked out with a bag that was already packed.
She had known she might need to leave tonight.
She had been ready.
"No," he said.
"But she didn't go far.
She's not finished."
He was right.
When he got back to the penthouse, the concierge met him at the elevator with an uncomfortable expression.
"Mr.
Crane.
Ms.
Voss returned approximately twenty minutes ago.
She said she had forgotten personal items.
I let her up — I apologize, sir, her access hadn't been formally revoked."
Nathaniel took the stairs.
He pushed open the penthouse door.
Isabella was standing at his desk.
The top drawer was open.
Her hand was inside it.
She pulled it out slowly when she heard him.
In her hand was a small silver key.
"What does that open?" he asked.
She set it on the desk between them.
"A safe deposit box," she said.
"At Meridian Bank on Fifth.
In your name."
"I don't have a safe deposit box at Meridian Bank."
"You do now." Her voice was completely level.
"I opened it for you eight months ago.
With a power of attorney your mother signed."
Evelyn appeared in the hallway behind Nathaniel.
She had been in the guest room.
"I never signed a power of attorney," Evelyn said.
Isabella looked at her.
"The notary has your signature on file," Isabella said.
"And your thumbprint."
"That's not possible."
"Evelyn." Isabella's voice softened into something almost gentle.
"You came to my office eight months ago.
You were having a difficult day.
You signed several documents.
I don't think you remember it clearly."
Evelyn's face went white.
"I was never in your office," she said.
"I have never once been to your office."
"The notary will say otherwise."
Nathaniel stepped between them.
"What's in the box?" he asked.
Isabella picked up the key and held it out to him.
"Documents," she said.
"Financial documents.
In your name, Nathaniel.
Transfers, accounts, a series of transactions going back fourteen months." She paused.
"If anyone starts asking questions about what happened to your mother tonight, those documents will suggest that you were the one moving her money."
The silence lasted four full seconds.
"You framed me," he said.
"I built insurance," she said.
"I never planned to use it.
I planned to marry you.
May you like
I planned for us to be very happy." Something shifted in her expression — not regret, but something adjacent to it.
"You weren't supposed to come home early."
