Chapter 13 - THE NAME IN THE TRUST
Claire’s original trust documents had been replaced.
That was the first thing police discovered.
The second was worse.
Ethan had never been named Oliver’s permanent trustee.
Claire had selected someone else.
Maya.
She stared at the attorney.
“That’s impossible.”
Attorney Samuel Pierce placed the original notarized pages on the table.
“Claire Caldwell named you successor trustee if she died before Oliver turned twenty-five.”
“Why?”
“Because she trusted you.”
Ethan looked stunned but not angry.
Maya shook her head.
“I was an employee.”
“You were Claire’s closest friend in this house,” Pierce said.
Maya’s eyes burned.
“She never told me.”
“She intended to.”
The attorney turned another page.
“There’s more.”
A separate trust controlled shares of Caldwell Biotech.
Current estimated value: eighty-three million dollars.
Maya whispered, “That’s what this was about.”
Pierce nodded.
“If Ethan died while Oliver was a minor, control of those shares transferred to Oliver’s trustee.”
Maya understood.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Grant frame me?”
“Because your removal was necessary.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“If Maya were convicted of killing Oliver—”
“She could never serve as trustee.”
“And Vanessa?”
Pierce nodded.
“The altered documents named Vanessa instead.”
Maya felt sick.
Claire.
Oliver.
Ethan.
Her.
Every step had been planned.
Ortiz entered.
“We found the document lab Grant used.”
“Where?”
“An office rented under one of the shell companies.”
“Is he there?”
“No.”
“But we found maps.”
Maya immediately knew.
“Of what?”
Ortiz looked at her.
“Your mother’s house.”
Maya stopped breathing.
“My mother?”
“Officers are already heading there.”
Maya grabbed her phone.
No answer.
Again.
Voicemail.
“Mom, call me.”
Ethan stood.
“We’re going.”
Ortiz shook her head.
“Absolutely not.”
Maya was already moving.
“You can arrest me after.”
Twenty-three minutes later, they reached the small brick house where Maya had grown up.
Front door open.
Lights on.
No police car yet.
“Mom?”
Maya ran inside.
The living room was empty.
A broken cup lay on the floor.
“MOM!”
She heard movement in the basement.
Maya opened the door.
Ethan grabbed her arm.
“Wait.”
A voice came from below.
“Maya?”
Her mother.
Maya ran down.
Helen Brooks sat tied to a chair.
Tape covered her mouth.
Maya rushed toward her.
Then a gun clicked.
Grant stepped from behind the furnace.
“Stop.”
Maya froze.
Ethan raised his hands.
Grant smiled tiredly.
“You were always the problem, Maya.”
“Let my mother go.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When you sign something.”
He placed a document on a workbench.
Maya looked at it.
Resignation as trustee.
Transfer of all authority.
“Sign.”
“No.”
Grant pointed the gun toward Helen.
Ethan stepped forward.
“Don’t.”
Grant moved the weapon toward him.
“Another step and she dies.”
Maya reached for the pen.
Then Helen made a strange sound behind the tape.
Maya looked at her mother’s hands.
They weren’t tied anymore.
May you like
Helen had cut herself free.
And hidden behind her chair was an old iron hammer.
