Chapter 13 - The Seventy-Two Hour Threat
Margaret’s petition was forty-three pages.
It accused me of alienating Maisie from extended family.
It described the birthday dinner as an incident where I “violently attacked” Evan.
It called Margaret’s slap an “open-handed corrective response.”
Dana nearly laughed when she read that phrase.
But I did not.
A hearing was scheduled in seventy-two hours.
Margaret wanted immediate contact with Maisie.
Supervised at first.
Then regular weekends.
“She cannot seriously expect to win.”
Dana closed the file.
“People file weak petitions all the time.”
“So we’re safe?”
“I did not say that.”
That was something I was learning about court.
Truth mattered.
Evidence mattered.
But neither removed uncertainty.
Margaret submitted photographs of herself caring for Maisie.
At the zoo.
At Christmas.
At the park.
Hundreds of smiling moments.
If you had seen only those images, you would have thought she was the perfect grandmother.
That frightened me more than obvious cruelty.
Cruel people are not cruel every minute.
That is how they stay close.
The night before the hearing, Rachel found me sitting beside Maisie’s bed.
My daughter slept with one hand around her stuffed rabbit.
“Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
Rachel sat beside me.
“Good.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“You’re scared because you understand what matters.”
I smiled weakly.
My phone rang.
Linda Mercer.
Margaret’s former bookkeeper.
Dana had spoken to her earlier.
I answered.
“Claire, I found something.”
“What?”
“The original trust ledger.”
My pulse quickened.
“Maisie’s trust?”
“Yes.”
“What did Margaret do?”
Linda hesitated.
“She never funded it.”
I frowned.
“Then what was the point?”
“She used the trust name to receive transfers.”
My throat tightened.
“From where?”
“Your home equity money.”
I stood up.
“She told Evan it was for Maisie.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Where did it go?”
“The Parker building.”
Exactly as we suspected.
But Linda had more.
“She also listed herself as trustee.”
“Can she do that?”
“With the documents Evan signed, yes.”
“And if something happened to Evan and me?”
Linda was silent.
“Linda.”
“She would control every dollar intended for Maisie.”
My stomach turned.
The custody fight was not only about control.
It was tied to money.
Then Linda whispered.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“I checked the old Jenna files.”
“And?”
“Margaret paid Patricia during that case too.”
I closed my eyes.
May you like
“How long has Patricia been doing this for her?”
“At least nine years.”
