Chapter 17 - The Man at Table Nine
The guest list had become another document I never expected to examine like evidence.
Emmett and I looked through it with Lena's photographs, trying to identify the stranger Claire had mentioned.
She remembered that a man named Grant Hale had been introduced as a business consultant and seated near Richard's associates.
We found him in a picture from the reception, smiling politely over a glass of water.
Claire said Grant had offered to interview friends and neighbors to evaluate Emmett's suitability as a parent.
There had been no court order and no legitimate reason for him to do that.
Naomi explained that informal inquiries were not the same as an authorized custody evaluation.
She advised Emmett not to confront the man and began checking his professional claims.
Lena confirmed that Grant had asked whether she could supply images of Emmett drinking at the reception.
She had refused because he wasn't her client.
The detail made me sick.
A wedding photographer hired to capture joy had been approached for material that could be stripped of context and used against the groom.
At the same time, the brokerage confirmed that its listing had been removed from circulation.
The property records showed Emmett as the owner, and no transfer to Claire had been recorded.
For the first time in days, one part of the threat had lost its force.
The family-court drafts remained troubling, but no petition matching them had been found in the court's public index.
I began to hope the worst possibilities would remain only possibilities.
Then Denise called.
She'd seen Grant's photograph and recognized him from a neighborhood meeting years earlier.
He had worked with Richard's development team during the access-road dispute.
The same people had been circling Phoebe's home before her death and now were circling Margot's life.
Naomi asked Denise to write down exactly what she remembered, separating direct observations from assumptions.
We had learned how easily allegations could be made.
We would not become careless ourselves.
That night I found Margot and Emmett at the kitchen table working on a puzzle.
She was laughing again.
Then his phone rang.
He listened, thanked the caller, and sat perfectly still.
Naomi had received a formal letter from Richard's attorney.
It claimed the development company had an enforceable option to buy the house.
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Attached was a contract dated the week before Phoebe's accident.
