Chapter 8 - Forty-Eight Hours
The first thing Naomi said when I told her about the closing was, "We need to know who the lenders are."
The second thing was, "We cannot assume the transaction is legitimate just because someone put a dollar amount on it."
We were back at her office by one-thirty.
Diana had agreed to cooperate with investigators and preserve the files she controlled.
Ortiz was arranging the proper legal process to obtain the safe-deposit records.
Adrian was reviewing the old trust instruments.
And I was staring at a wall covered with documents connected by blue painter's tape.
Four hundred and eighty million dollars.
That number kept echoing in my mind.
My grandfather had spent his life talking about family responsibility.
My father had borrowed against restricted assets.
And now Sterling was attempting something even bigger.
He wanted to turn land that was supposed to remain available to the public into a private development.
He wanted control of the trust so he could approve it.
And he wanted Mom declared mentally incapable so she couldn't object.
But one question bothered me.
"Why the wedding?" I asked.
Naomi looked up.
"What?"
"Sterling had been preparing this for months. He could have filed the petition earlier. Why create that confrontation at Thatcher's wedding?"
Adrian answered.
"Because they needed a public incident."
I looked at him.
"An incident that made Mom appear unstable."
"Exactly."
"But Sterling attacked her."
"Which wasn't necessarily part of the original plan."
Naomi leaned back.
"Think about the staged photographs. They were building a history of alleged incidents. A public confrontation would support that history, especially if sympathetic family members said your mother behaved irrationally."
I remembered the foyer.
Mom had walked straight toward Sterling.
She hadn't been confused.
She'd been furious.
She'd held something in her hand.
A folded paper.
I hadn't thought about it until now.
"Mom confronted him with a document," I said.
Adrian looked up.
"What document?"
"I don't know. She was holding it when she walked toward him."
"Did Sterling take it?"
I tried to remember.
The voices.
The champagne glasses.
The sudden silence.
Sterling grabbing Mom's arm.
Thatcher pulling me away.
Then Mom falling.
"I think so."
Naomi stood.
"We need the complete wedding footage."
I checked my phone.
"The wedding photographer might have something."
"Who hired him?"
"Thatcher and his wife."
"What's her name?"
"Audrey."
I hadn't thought about Audrey since the wedding.
She was twenty-nine, a pediatric occupational therapist, and one of the kindest people I'd ever met.
She'd married Thatcher despite his tendency to make grand promises he couldn't afford.
I wondered whether she knew anything about the petition.
I called her.
She answered immediately.
"Kalista?"
Her voice was hoarse.
"Audrey, I need to ask you something."
"Is Lenora okay?"
"No change."
She began crying.
I waited.
Then she said, "I haven't slept."
"Neither have I."
"Thatcher won't talk to me."
My stomach tightened.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"He left our hotel suite after the hospital. He came back for his things, but he wouldn't tell me where he was going."
"Did he say anything?"
Audrey hesitated.
"He told me Sterling was handling everything."
I closed my eyes.
"Audrey, did you know about the guardianship petition?"
"What petition?"
I explained.
There was silence.
Then she said, "That's impossible."
"I have copies."
"Thatcher would never do that to Lenora."
I didn't answer.
"Kalista?"
"He signed three declarations."
Audrey started crying again.
I felt terrible.
But there was no gentle way to tell her.
"Listen," I said. "I need the wedding videographer's contact information."
"Why?"
"Because the footage may show what happened before Mom was hurt."
She gave me the number.
Then she said something that made me pause.
"Sterling told us not to use the regular videography company."
"What?"
"He insisted on hiring someone he knew. Said it would be his wedding gift."
I looked at Naomi.
"Who did the filming?"
"A company called Everlight Events."
"Did they give you the footage?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Sterling said there was a technical problem with the cameras."
I felt my chest tighten.
"Audrey, was there another camera?"
"What do you mean?"
"Someone filming independently."
She thought for a moment.
"My cousin Claire recorded part of the ceremony on her phone."
"Only the ceremony?"
"I think she also filmed the reception."
"Can you ask her?"
"I can."
Then her voice changed.
"Kalista, did Thatcher really help Sterling do this?"
I closed my eyes.
"Yes."
She didn't speak for a long time.
When she finally did, her voice was steady.
"Then I need to know what kind of man I married."
She promised to call back.
An hour later, Naomi received a response from the wedding venue.
The hotel's management confirmed that all security footage from the event had been preserved following the incident report.
But Everlight Events had notified the wedding planner that its primary footage was corrupted.
That sounded convenient.
Too convenient.
At 4:15, Audrey called again.
"Claire has a video."
I stood.
"Of the foyer?"
"Yes."
"Can she send it?"
"She's sending it to me now."
Two minutes later, the file arrived.
Naomi and Adrian stood behind me as I opened it.
The video began in the ballroom.
Music.
Laughter.
A crystal chandelier.
Guests holding champagne.
Then the camera moved toward the foyer.
Mom stood beside a marble column, speaking to Sterling.
I turned up the volume.
The audio was muffled.
But we could hear enough.
"You were never going to tell me," Mom said.
Sterling's voice was low.
"This isn't the place."
"You used my father's trust."
"Lenora, stop."
"You used his name."
A man's laugh sounded near the camera.
Then Mom raised the folded paper.
"I know what Harborlight is."
Sterling's face changed.
It was subtle.
But unmistakable.
He glanced toward Thatcher.
My brother moved immediately.
He approached Mom from the side.
"Mom, please."
She turned toward him.
"No. You don't get to tell me to be quiet."
"You're upset."
"I'm angry. There's a difference."
Then Mom said something I'd completely forgotten.
She looked directly at Thatcher.
"I know what you signed."
The room went silent.
On the video, Thatcher's expression collapsed.
Sterling stepped forward.
"Lenora, hand me the paper."
"No."
"You're embarrassing yourself."
"Good."
She raised it higher.
"Maybe it's time everyone saw what you did."
Sterling grabbed her wrist.
Mom pulled away.
He tightened his grip.
She stumbled.
Her shoulder struck the marble console table.
Then her head hit the edge.
The camera jerked as guests screamed.
I saw myself rush forward.
I saw Thatcher grab my arm.
And for the first time, I noticed something else.
Sterling bent over Mom.
Not to help her.
To retrieve the paper that had fallen beside her hand.
He slipped it into his jacket.
Naomi paused the video.
"There."
Adrian leaned forward.
"Can you enlarge that?"
She zoomed in.
The paper was folded, but one corner remained visible.
It had a red stamp.
Adrian's face went pale.
"I recognize that."
"What is it?"
He stared at the screen.
"An internal auditor's exception notice."
I turned toward him.
"From where?"
"Westhaven."
"What does it mean?"
"It means someone formally flagged a transaction for possible irregularities."
He looked at me.
"Your mother had documentation that the waterfront financing was being challenged."
I stared at Sterling's frozen image.
The moment Mom fell, he'd taken the evidence.
Not her hand.
Not her pulse.
The paper.
I felt something inside me turn cold.
"Send the video to Ortiz."
Naomi nodded.
"We'll preserve the original file and contact the hotel about authentication."
Adrian stepped away from the screen.
His phone was ringing.
He looked at the caller.
Then his expression hardened.
"It's the bank trustee."
"Which bank?" I asked.
"Northfield Fiduciary Services."
He answered.
I watched him listen.
His face changed.
"Under what authority?" he demanded.
A pause.
"That instrument is disputed."
Another pause.
"Then preserve every communication concerning it."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" I asked.
Adrian stared at me.
"Sterling has instructed the bank to recognize him as successor trust manager."
"But the judge denied his petition."
"He doesn't need the guardianship order if the bank accepts the private amendment."
"Will they?"
"They've suspended action pending review."
"That's good."
"Yes."
He looked at Naomi.
"But Sterling isn't waiting until Friday."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What do you mean?"
May you like
Adrian's voice was grim.
"He's trying to obtain control tonight."
