Chapter 7 - The Attorney Who Knew Too MuchPreston Hale had represented my father for eighteen years.
That was what the state trooper told me.
I didn't find it comforting.
By the time Daniel and I reached the crash site, blue lights painted the trees and shattered glass covered the shoulder.
Ryan's truck had gone through a guardrail and struck a drainage embankment.
The driver's side looked crushed.
For twenty minutes, nobody would tell me anything.
Then a paramedic approached.
“He's conscious.”
My knees almost gave out.
“Can I see him?”
“They're preparing to transport.”
“Is he hurt?”
“Broken wrist, possible concussion, cuts. Could've been much worse.”
The black SUV was gone.
Witnesses reported seeing it force Ryan toward the shoulder.
No plate number.
No useful description.
Daniel stood beside a trooper, speaking quietly.
I walked toward the ambulance.
Ryan lay strapped to a board.
Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow.
When he saw me, he tried to smile.
“Dad's going to kill me over the truck.”
I nearly laughed and cried at the same time.
“You're an idiot.”
“Good to see you too.”
I touched his shoulder.
“Did you see them?”
“Tinted windows.”
“Driver?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
He closed his eyes.
“One thing.”
“What?”
“The SUV had a dealership sticker.”
“Which dealership?”
“Blackridge Motors.”
Daniel, standing behind me, heard it.
“Blackridge owns dealerships?”
Ryan opened his eyes.
“Apparently.”
The paramedics loaded him.
I followed to the hospital.
Dad arrived forty minutes later.
He entered like a storm.
“Where is he?”
“In imaging.”
“What happened?”
I looked at him.
“You tell me.”
His expression hardened.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Someone forced him off the road.”
Dad stopped.
The anger left his face.
“Who?”
“Black SUV.”
He turned pale.
That reaction told Daniel everything.
“You know something,” Daniel said.
Dad stared at him.
“Who are you?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
Recognition flashed.
“You.”
Daniel nodded.
“Me.”
Dad looked at me.
“You hired a federal shark?”
“Former federal shark,” Daniel corrected.
Dad ignored him.
“Emily, stay out of Blackridge.”
“Little late.”
“You don't understand these people.”
“Then explain them.”
Dad looked toward the hospital hallway.
“Not here.”
“Here is exactly where.”
His voice dropped.
“I said not here.”
I took one step closer.
“Someone nearly killed Ryan.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“They weren't trying to kill him.”
Daniel spoke quietly.
“That confidence is interesting.”
Dad glared.
“You don't know anything.”
“So educate us.”
For the first time in my life, I watched my father hesitate because he was afraid.
Not of me.
Not of Daniel.
Of whoever stood behind Blackridge Capital.
He eventually sat in a waiting-room chair.
For several seconds, he stared at his hands.
Then he said:
“Three years ago, Carter Holdings was overleveraged.”
“How badly?” Daniel asked.
“Badly.”
“You borrowed from Blackridge.”
“Yes.”
“Who introduced them?”
Dad looked away.
“Preston.”
I clenched my teeth.
“Your lawyer?”
“He said they specialized in distressed real estate.”
Daniel folded his arms.
“They specialize in acquiring distressed real estate.”
Dad looked at him.
“I know that now.”
“What happened?”
“They gave us ten million initially. Then another eleven.”
“At what interest rate?”
Dad hesitated.
“Richard,” Daniel warned.
“Fourteen percent.”
I stared.
“You borrowed twenty-one million at fourteen percent?”
“We had projects.”
“You had a gambling problem disguised as development.”
Dad stood.
“Don't talk to me about business.”
Ryan's hospital room door opened down the hall.
A nurse stepped out.
Dad immediately started forward.
I caught his arm.
“We're not finished.”
He looked at my hand.
Then at me.
I released him.
His voice softened.
“I was trying to save what my father built.”
“So you stole from us.”
He flinched.
“I borrowed.”
“Without permission.”
“I intended to replace it.”
“You falsified records.”
“I moved money.”
“You sued me using a fake trust provision.”
His expression changed.
Daniel noticed.
“That's the part you didn't do, is it?” he asked.
Dad stared.
“What?”
“The altered provision.”
Dad slowly shook his head.
“I never altered the trust.”
I studied him.
“The complaint says I lose my interest if I don't establish Virginia residency.”
“I thought that clause was real.”
“Why?”
“Preston showed it to me.”
Silence.
Daniel and I exchanged a look.
Dad continued.
“He said your grandfather inserted it after you enlisted.”
“He didn't.”
Dad sat again.
Something inside him seemed to collapse.
“Then Preston lied.”
Daniel’s face became unreadable.
“Or somebody lied to Preston.”
“No,” Dad said.
“He knew.”
“How?”
Dad looked toward us.
“Because Preston had Granddad’s files.”
Helen had told me Brennan, Ortiz and Cole dissolved years ago.
But she never said where the files went.
“Why would Preston have them?”
“He purchased part of the firm's estate practice.”
Daniel pulled out his phone.
“Interesting.”
Dad grabbed his arm.
“No.”
Daniel looked down at the hand.
Dad released him.
“If Preston knows we're onto him, he can trigger the loan.”
“He can already trigger it Monday.”
“No. He can trigger the personal guarantees.”
“What did you pledge?”
Dad didn't answer.
My stomach sank.
“What did you pledge?”
He looked at me.
“The farmhouse.”
“What else?”
“Vineyard.”
“What else?”
“Ryan’s property.”
My voice sharpened.
“You pledged Ryan’s house?”
“He signed.”
“Did he know?”
Dad looked away.
I closed my eyes.
“God.”
“He trusted me.”
“Yes,” I said. “That seems to be the problem.”
Dad absorbed the blow.
Then whispered:
“There's more.”
Of course there was.
Daniel sat opposite him.
“Keep going.”
“Blackridge required a key-man insurance policy.”
“On you?”
Dad nodded.
“How much?”
“Fifteen million.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
I understood seconds later.
“If you die,” I said, “Blackridge gets fifteen million?”
“Part of it.”
“And the debt?”
“Still secured.”
The room seemed colder.
Ryan's crash.
Threatening photographs.
A massive loan.
Insurance.
Property.
Daniel leaned forward.
“Richard, have you had any recent accidents?”
Dad looked startled.
“What?”
“Car trouble. Falls. Medical scares.”
Dad said nothing.
That silence frightened me more than an answer.
“Dad?”
“Two months ago, brakes failed on my Jaguar.”
“Mechanic?”
“Said a line was damaged.”
Daniel leaned back.
“And you didn't report it?”
“I thought it was wear.”
“What else?”
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“Last month somebody broke into the farmhouse.”
“Police?”
“Nothing was taken.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Then he said:
“Blackridge may not simply be waiting for you to default.”
Dad looked at him.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying whoever structured this deal has incentives if you lose the estate.”
A pause.
“And incentives if you die.”
For once, my father didn't argue.
The nurse returned.
“You can see Mr. Carter now.”
Dad stood.
Before he walked away, I said:
“Dad.”
He stopped.
“You're coming with us after this.”
“No.”
“That wasn't a request.”
He almost smiled.
“You always did sound like your grandfather.”
“Then listen the first time.”
He went into Ryan's room.
Daniel looked at me.
“You realize what happens now?”
“We protect Dad.”
“Yes.”
“And prove Preston is involved.”
“Yes.”
“And recover the trust.”
“Yes.”
I looked through the glass toward my father sitting beside my injured brother.
There was one final question.
“What happens to Carter Holdings?”
Daniel’s expression softened.
“That depends on whether there's anything left to save.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A text.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Dad.
Ryan.
Me.
Taken through the hospital window moments earlier.
Underneath it were six words.
NOW THE WHOLE FAMILY IS TOGETHER.
May you like
Then another message arrived.
PERFECT.
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