Chapter 9 - The Empty Desk
Patricia claimed the study computer had been removed for repair.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“By whom?” Rebecca asked.
“The IT company.”
“Name?”
“I don’t remember.”
Rebecca stared at her.
“You own a company carrying nearly fifty million dollars of debt and you cannot remember who handles your computer systems?”
Patricia folded her arms.
“I don’t manage household vendors.”
“Then who does?”
“The house manager.”
The house manager, unfortunately for Patricia, did remember.
Rebecca called him.
No computer had been scheduled for repair.
No technician had visited.
Patricia changed her explanation.
“Then Blake must have arranged it.”
Ethan stared.
“You let him remove a computer after you knew he had access to financial documents?”
“I didn’t know what he was doing.”
“You keep saying that.”
Patricia’s temper snapped.
“Because I am trying to save everything my husband built!”
Vanessa flinched.
Eleanor remained still.
There it was.
Not greed exactly.
Not only greed.
Fear.
Patricia looked around the elegant study.
“This company employed three hundred people at its peak. Charles died and left a disaster nobody knew about. Banks smiled at me until they realized he was gone. Partners who drank at our table stopped taking calls. I did what I had to do.”
Eleanor’s voice was quiet.
“Did that include using my son’s signature?”
Patricia looked away.
“I never forged Ethan’s name.”
“Did Turner?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ask him to?”
“No.”
“Did you benefit from documents carrying Ethan’s name?”
Patricia said nothing.
Rebecca wrote that down.
Ethan paced to the window.
“You were going to let Vanessa marry me while all this was happening.”
Patricia looked at him.
“My daughter loves you.”
“That’s becoming irrelevant.”
Vanessa whispered, “It isn’t irrelevant to me.”
Ethan did not answer.
The silence hurt more than shouting.
Eleanor watched Vanessa closely.
She looked broken.
But Eleanor had negotiated with people who could manufacture grief.
The question remained whether Vanessa’s pain came from losing Ethan or from losing access to him.
A knock sounded.
Lucas appeared again.
“There’s someone at the front gate.”
Patricia looked irritated.
“Tell them we’re closed.”
“He says he’s Mr. Turner.”
Nobody moved.
Eleanor almost admired the arrogance.
Blake Turner had returned.
“Let him in,” she said.
Patricia spun toward her.
“No.”
Ethan said, “Yes.”
“This is my home.”
Rebecca closed her laptop.
“Then you may refuse him entry. But if you refuse him now, we will document that too.”
Patricia glared.
Finally she nodded.
Turner entered five minutes later.
He had aged well.
Silver at the temples.
Tailored navy suit.
A calm smile Eleanor remembered hating.
“Eleanor Carter.”
“Blake.”
“I heard you were here.”
“How?”
Turner glanced at Patricia.
“News travels.”
Eleanor looked at his empty hands.
“Where is the computer?”
His smile barely changed.
“What computer?”
“The one from this desk.”
“No idea.”
“You asked about the security server three weeks ago.”
“Did I?”
“Lucas heard you.”
Turner glanced toward the waiter.
Lucas looked away.
Turner smiled.
“Memory is unreliable.”
“So are fraudsters.”
Patricia snapped, “Eleanor.”
Turner did not react.
He had always been good at absorbing insults without revealing whether they landed.
Ethan stepped forward.
“Did you use my signature?”
Turner studied him.
“Your father would have taught you not to ask legal questions casually.”
“My father fired you.”
“Your mother fired me.”
Eleanor’s voice hardened.
“With Richard’s approval.”
Turner’s smile disappeared for one second.
Ethan noticed.
Good.
“Did you access my credentials?”
“No.”
“Did you meet privately with Vanessa?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa looked at him.
“You called yourself Blake Thomas.”
“That is also my name.”
“You copied my password vault.”
“No.”
Rebecca asked, “Would you voluntarily provide your laptop for forensic review?”
Turner laughed.
“No.”
“Would you voluntarily provide the study computer?”
“If I possessed it.”
Eleanor stepped closer.
“What are you trying to transfer after Ethan’s marriage?”
Turner’s eyes met hers.
For the first time, something like admiration appeared.
“You always were faster than everyone else.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
He looked at Ethan.
“But here is one.”
Turner reached into his jacket.
He placed a folded document on the desk.
Rebecca immediately stopped Ethan from touching it.
Turner smiled again.
“This was executed eight months ago.”
Rebecca opened the document with gloves.
Eleanor read the heading.
CARTER FAMILY TRUST — SUCCESSOR VOTING AUTHORITY ACKNOWLEDGMENT.
At the bottom appeared Ethan’s signature.
And underneath it appeared Eleanor’s.
Eleanor stared.
“My signature is forged.”
Turner’s expression remained calm.
“Then, Mrs. Carter, you have a very serious problem.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“No, Blake.”
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She pointed to the document.
“You do.”
