Chapter 6 - What He Planned for the Baby
Rebecca Shaw looked terrified when I met her.
Not frightened of me.
Frightened of what she knew.
She sat in my living room with a leather folder clutched against her chest.
Emily was on the sofa beside Claire.
I entered with Nathan.
Rebecca stood.
“Mrs. Carter.”
“Sit.”
She did.
I remained standing.
“You represented Marcus?”
“Briefly.”
“For what?”
“He contacted me privately about marital asset planning.”
Emily gave a hollow laugh.
“That sounds nicer than divorce.”
Rebecca looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About seven months ago.”
Emily’s hand moved over her stomach.
Seven months.
Almost exactly when she learned she was pregnant.
I asked, “Why are you here?”
“Because I saw the news inside Arden this morning.”
The investigation had not been made public, but senior leadership knew Marcus had been suspended.
Rebecca continued.
“When I heard he was under investigation for financial misconduct, I realized some questions he asked me might be connected.”
Nathan opened his notebook.
“What questions?”
Rebecca looked at Emily.
“I’m sorry.”
Emily held her gaze.
“Just say it.”
Rebecca inhaled.
“Marcus wanted to know whether property held in another person’s name could be treated as marital property.”
Nathan asked, “Did he mention Redvale?”
“No.”
“Any business?”
“He referred to hypothetical assets.”
“Of course he did,” I muttered.
Rebecca continued.
“Then he asked what happened financially if one spouse committed a felony.”
Emily became still.
“What did you tell him?”
“That criminal liability and marital property division are separate issues and depend on the facts.”
“What else?”
Rebecca looked even more uncomfortable.
“He asked about custody.”
My chest tightened.
“What about it?”
“He wanted to know whether a parent charged with financial crimes could lose custody of a newborn.”
Emily’s face drained of color.
Claire grabbed her hand.
I stepped closer.
“He intended to frame her and take the baby.”
Rebecca shook her head quickly.
“I cannot say what he intended.”
“I can.”
“Mom,” Emily whispered.
I turned toward her.
Her eyes were wet.
But she was not crying.
“He was going to make everyone think I stole that money.”
I sat beside her.
Rebecca opened her folder.
“There’s something else.”
She removed printed emails.
“After our final consultation, Marcus sent me several questions. I told him I could not advise him on concealing assets or manufacturing evidence.”
Nathan immediately looked up.
“Manufacturing evidence?”
Rebecca nodded.
“He asked a hypothetical question about whether electronic signatures could prove someone had authorized financial transactions.”
Emily whispered, “Oh my God.”
Rebecca pushed the papers toward Nathan.
“I terminated the relationship after that.”
“Why didn’t you report him?” I asked.
“Because strange legal questions are not proof of a crime.”
“And now?”
“Now I think they might matter.”
They mattered.
Very much.
By evening, Nathan had turned everything over to the outside investigators.
Marcus’s company access was disabled.
His corporate card was canceled.
His building credentials were revoked.
And for the first time since this began, I believed we were getting ahead of him.
I was wrong.
At six fifteen, Emily came into the kitchen holding her phone.
“Mom.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“Our joint account is empty.”
I froze.
“How empty?”
“Everything’s gone.”
“How much?”
“Almost seventy thousand dollars.”
Nathan stood from the table.
“Call the bank.”
Emily did.
The answer came quickly.
The funds had been transferred that afternoon.
Authorized by Marcus.
“To where?” I asked.
Emily repeated the question to the representative.
Her face fell.
“A personal account.”
“In his name?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
I walked to the window and pressed my fingertips against the glass.
He knew he was cornered.
Now he was taking what he could.
Emily ended the call.
“That was our emergency money.”
“I’ll replace it.”
“No.”
I turned.
“What?”
“I said no.”
“Emily—”
“I don’t want you replacing everything Marcus takes from me.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“It feels like it.”
Her voice rose.
“I need to know I can survive without him. Not just move from depending on Marcus to depending on you.”
The words hurt.
Because they were true enough to hurt.
I walked back slowly.
“What do you need from me?”
She wiped her face.
“A place to stay.”
“You have it.”
“Help finding an attorney.”
“You have that too.”
“Someone to come with me when I’m scared.”
I took her hand.
“Always.”
“But don’t fix every problem with money.”
I nodded.
“I’ll try.”
That earned the smallest smile.
“Thank you.”
The doorbell rang.
We all froze.
Nobody moved.
It rang again.
Claire whispered, “Not him again.”
I checked the security camera.
A woman stood outside.
Late sixties.
Gray coat.
Rigid posture.
I recognized her.
Marcus’s mother.
Patricia Reed.
Emily saw the screen.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“You don’t want to see her?”
“She’ll blame me.”
The bell rang again.
Then Patricia called.
Emily stared at the phone.
I said, “You decide.”
After a long moment, she answered.
“Hello?”
Patricia’s voice came through sharply.
“Open the door.”
Emily flinched.
“No.”
“Emily, I drove forty minutes.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Patricia paused.
Then her tone softened slightly.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About Marcus?”
“Yes.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Then I don’t want to hear it.”
“You need to.”
“No, Patricia. For three years, every time Marcus insulted me in front of you, you told me marriage was hard.”
Patricia said nothing.
“When he ruined my birthday because dinner was late, you told me men have stress.”
Silence.
“When I told you he controlled every dollar I spent, you said I should be grateful he provided.”
Patricia’s voice changed.
“Emily—”
“So no.”
My daughter straightened.
“I’m done listening to people explain Marcus to me.”
Then Patricia said one sentence.
“I didn’t come to defend my son.”
Emily opened her eyes.
I looked at the camera again.
Patricia was crying.
That shocked me.
In all the years I had known her, I had never seen that woman cry.
Emily hesitated.
“Then why are you here?”
Patricia looked directly into the camera.
“Because Marcus came to my house this afternoon.”
Emily’s fingers tightened.
“And?”
“He asked me to lie for him.”
Nobody spoke.
Patricia continued.
“He wanted me to say you started Redvale.”
Emily covered her mouth.
I unlocked the door.
Patricia stepped inside carrying an envelope.
She looked ten years older than she had at Christmas.
“I told him no.”
Emily stared at her.
Patricia held out the envelope.
“So he told me I would never see my grandson.”
Her voice broke.
“I should have stopped defending him years ago.”
Emily did not move.
Patricia placed the envelope on the table.
“What is that?” Nathan asked.
Patricia looked at him.
“A key.”
“To what?”
“A storage unit.”
I frowned.
“Whose?”
“Marcus rented it under my name.”
The room became silent.
Patricia swallowed.
“I thought he was storing furniture.”
Nathan reached for the envelope.
Patricia stopped him.
“There’s something you should know first.”
“What?”
“I went there this afternoon.”
Emily stared at her.
“And?”
Patricia looked directly at my daughter.
“There are boxes inside with your name on them.”
Emily went pale.
“What boxes?”
Patricia’s voice fell to a whisper.
“Baby things.”
Emily looked confused.
Then Patricia said, “And documents about a house in another state.”
I felt cold spread through me.
“What state?”
“Florida.”
Nathan frowned.
“Why would Marcus have a house in Florida?”
Patricia shook her head.
“It isn’t in his name.”
“Whose name?”
Patricia looked at Emily’s stomach.
May you like
Then at Emily.
“The trust is named after your unborn son.”
