Chapter 10 - My Father's Second Visit
The first question was simple.
Why would my father return to my apartment after Kyle had already stolen the files?
The answer became less simple when police pulled the building footage from that second visit.
Richard arrived at 8:42 p.m., more than six hours after Kyle left.
He did not use the front entrance.
He parked behind a row of dumpsters near the service door and waited inside his SUV for eleven minutes.
Then he walked around the building, tried the side door, and returned to the vehicle.
He never entered.
At 9:01, another car arrived.
A silver sedan.
The driver stepped out and spoke to my father through the open passenger window.
They exchanged something.
The video was too distant to show what.
Then the sedan left.
Richard remained for another four minutes and drove away.
Detective Cole paused the recording.
"Recognize the car?"
I did not.
Elena leaned toward the screen.
"Run the plate."
Cole had already done it.
The sedan belonged to Martin Vale.
I stared at her.
"No."
"The registration is his."
"He was with us yesterday."
"That does not mean he was not with your father the night before."
I felt something ugly and familiar rise in my chest.
Distrust.
Martin had admitted he failed to make sure I received the key.
He had allowed my father to use his office phone.
He had represented my mother's estate.
And now his car was on video meeting Richard behind my apartment.
I called him from the police station.
He answered quickly.
"Natalie."
"Were you behind my apartment Tuesday night?"
Silence.
Elena closed her eyes.
Detective Cole watched the speakerphone.
"Martin."
"I can explain."
"Then explain."
He exhaled slowly.
"My car was there.
I was not driving it."
"Who was?"
"My son."
I had not known Martin had a son.
"Why was your son meeting my father?"
Another pause.
"Because he works for Richard."
I stood so quickly that the chair rolled backward.
Pain hit my arm.
I ignored it.
"You knew someone in your family worked for my father and you did not tell me?"
"Evan is an independent financial consultant.
Richard hired him three years ago.
I learned about the relationship only after your father came to my office six months ago."
"And you thought that was not relevant?"
"I thought it was a conflict I could manage.
I was wrong."
"Again."
The word came out sharper than I intended.
Martin accepted it.
"Yes.
Again."
Detective Cole leaned toward the phone.
"Mr.
Vale, this is Detective Cole.
We need your son's contact information."
Martin gave it without hesitation.
Within an hour, Evan Vale was sitting in an interview room.
I did not speak to him directly, but Cole returned forty minutes later with an expression that told me the day had become worse.
"Evan says your father asked him to bring a flash drive."
"What was on it?"
"Financial records from an account Evan managed."
"My trust?"
"Partly."
"What does partly mean?"
Cole sat across from me.
"The drive contained account statements for the trust and records from a limited liability company called Red Cedar Holdings."
I had never heard the name.
"Who owns it?"
"On paper, Kyle owns forty percent.
Linda owns forty percent.
Your father owns twenty."
"What does it do?"
"According to filings, property management.
According to Evan, almost nothing."
My stomach dropped.
"Shell company."
"Maybe.
We need financial investigators to make that determination."
"Why did Dad want the drive?"
"Evan says Richard claimed he was preparing for an audit and needed backups.
Evan handed it over."
"And then?"
"Richard asked him to delete the copies on his office system."
Elena muttered something under her breath.
"Did he?"
"No."
For the first time all afternoon, good news.
"Why not?"
"Company policy.
Evan also says the request made him uncomfortable, so he created an additional encrypted backup."
"Where?"
"With his attorney."
I laughed without humor.
"Everyone in this family suddenly loves attorneys."
Cole almost smiled.
Then her expression changed again.
"There is one more thing Evan told us."
I waited.
"Your father said the records had to disappear before Friday because you were going to be declared incapable of managing your own affairs."
I stared at her.
"Friday is tomorrow."
"Yes."
My phone rang.
Martin.
I almost ignored it.
Cole nodded for me to answer.
"What?"
"Natalie, I just received service of an emergency petition."
My throat tightened.
"For what?"
"Your father filed for temporary guardianship over you."
Elena stood up.
"On what basis?"
Martin continued.
"He claims you are experiencing acute psychological instability related to combat trauma, that you are being manipulated by fellow soldiers, and that you are attempting to destroy family assets you do not understand."
For several seconds, I could not speak.
The cruelty of it was almost elegant.
He had stolen from a trust created to protect me.
Now he wanted a court to call me unstable for discovering it.
"When is the hearing?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"That is impossible."
"Emergency petitions move quickly.
He is asking only for temporary authority."
"Over what?"
"Your bank accounts, legal decisions, and medical records."
My skin went cold.
Medical records.
If Richard gained access, he would see counseling notes from after deployment.
Private sessions.
Nightmares.
Survivor guilt.
Every normal response to combat could be lifted out of context and turned into the story he wanted.
Elena saw the realization on my face.
"He wants her therapy records."
Martin's silence confirmed it.
I looked at Detective Cole.
"Can he do that?"
"Not unless a judge gives him authority."
"Then we make sure that does not happen."
Martin said he could arrange counsel who specialized in guardianship defense.
I interrupted him.
"No."
"Natalie, you need representation."
"I know."
I looked at the evidence board on the wall.
Kyle entering my apartment.
Richard meeting Evan.
The forged email.
The trust records.
The messages asking me to protect Linda.
My father's petition depended on one idea.
That I was confused.
That I was irrational.
That I could not distinguish fact from emotion.
I knew exactly who I wanted beside me in court.
"Call Felicia Grant," I said.
"And tell her to bring every number she has."
The next morning, Richard walked into court expecting to prove I could not manage my own life.
May you like
He did not know the forensic accountant was already sitting behind me with a binder thick enough to destroy his version of our family.
