Chapter 9: The Attorney Who Sold Us Out
My father's personal attorney was named Charles Bennett.
He was seventy-two years old, had represented the Carter family for nearly three decades, and had been present when my grandfather's estate was settled.
He had attended my college graduation.
He had signed the legal documents for my wedding.
And he'd been the first person to congratulate Brandon when his company secured the original twelve-million-dollar investment.
I had always called him Uncle Charles.
Now my father was telling me he might be involved in a multimillion-dollar fraud.
"Are you certain?"" I asked.
Dad sighed.
"The bank records show that several payments were routed through a consulting firm connected to his office.""
"Could someone have used his credentials?""
"That's what we're trying to establish.""
I looked at Patricia.
She had already started taking notes.
"Has Charles been contacted?""
"No. I don't want him warned until we know exactly what he has done.""
I nodded.
"Then don't contact him.""
Dad was silent.
"Emily, I also need you to understand something. If Charles is involved, this may go much deeper than Brandon and Michael.""
I glanced toward the hallway.
"How much deeper?""
"I don't know yet.""
The following morning, I met my father at his office.
I wore a simple black dress and flat shoes. My anniversary dress had been sent for cleaning, but I had no intention of ever wearing it again.
Dad stood beside the conference-room window.
He looked older than he had the night before.
"Come here, sweetheart.""
He hugged me.
For the first time since the party, I allowed myself to cry.
He held me without speaking.
When I finally stepped back, he handed me a cup of coffee.
"Your grandfather would be proud of you.""
I looked down.
"I wish he were here.""
"So do I.""
Patricia entered carrying a large envelope.
"We've received preliminary confirmation from the bank.""
She placed several printed statements on the table.
"Charles Bennett's office received three payments over the past six months. The combined total is four hundred and twenty thousand dollars.""
My father frowned.
"Under what description?""
"Legal consulting services.""
I examined the dates.
Each payment had been made within forty-eight hours of a suspicious transfer from Brandon's company.
"Was Charles actually providing legal services?""
Patricia shook her head.
"We haven't found corresponding invoices or work records.""
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Charles has been my attorney for twenty-eight years.""
Patricia looked uncomfortable.
"Richard, we also found an email exchange between Charles and Michael.""
She opened her laptop.
The first email was from Michael.
The beneficiary documents must be processed before Emily reaches the review stage.
Charles had replied:
I can delay the independent review, but the original will remains a problem.
Michael's answer:
Brandon has the marriage situation under control. We only need the final authorization.
I stared at the screen.
"The marriage situation?""
Patricia nodded.
"That's the language they used.""
My father sat down.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he looked at me.
"Emily, I need to ask you something.""
"Go ahead.""
"Did Brandon ever ask you to sign a document that mentioned your grandfather's estate?""
I thought carefully.
"About six months ago, he brought some paperwork home. He said it was related to updating our marital assets.""
Dad's expression tightened.
"Did you sign it?""
"No. I asked my financial adviser to review it first.""
Patricia looked up.
"Who was the adviser?""
"Gregory Mills.""
She exchanged a glance with my father.
"What?""
Dad answered.
"Gregory's firm received a payment from the same consulting company that paid Charles.""
I felt my heart sink.
The people I'd trusted most had apparently been working together.
"How much?""
"One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.""
I stood up.
"Then we need to find out where the money went.""
Patricia nodded.
"We're arranging an independent forensic review.""
My father looked at me.
"Emily, I want you to stay away from Brandon and Michael until this is resolved.""
"I can do that.""
He hesitated.
"There's something else. Brandon has been calling the board members individually.""
"To persuade them not to remove him?""
"Yes. He's claiming the financial irregularities were authorized by the family trust.""
I shook my head.
"Can he prove that?""
"No. But he's trying to create doubt.""
Patricia closed her laptop.
"There's a board member who may be willing to help him.""
"Who?""
"Robert Sinclair.""
I recognized the name.
Robert had been one of Brandon's closest business partners. He'd attended the anniversary party and had watched me climb out of the swimming pool without offering a hand.
"Why would he support Brandon?""
Patricia placed another document in front of me.
"Because he received a payment of three hundred thousand dollars two weeks ago.""
I stared at the amount.
"From the company?""
"Through an offshore consulting account.""
Dad leaned forward.
"If Robert supports Brandon, he may attempt to challenge the validity of the trust's voting rights.""
I looked at the documents.
"So this isn't just about removing my husband.""
"No," Patricia replied.
"It's about determining how many people inside the company have been involved.""
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then another message appeared.
Emily, this is Vanessa. I need to speak with you alone.
I stared at the screen.
A second message arrived.
Brandon doesn't know I'm contacting you.
I showed Patricia.
She frowned.
"Don't respond yet.""
But a third message appeared.
I have proof that Brandon and Michael were planning to take more than your inheritance.
I felt my stomach tighten.
Then Vanessa sent a photograph.
It showed a bank document with a transfer authorization dated three weeks earlier.
The recipient account belonged to an overseas holding company.
The amount was eleven million dollars.
And the authorization bore my signature.
But something about the document was different from the others.
This time, there was a second signature beneath mine.
The signature of someone who had been dead for twenty-five years.
My grandfather.
I looked at my father.
He went completely pale.
"That's impossible," he whispered.
I enlarged the photograph.
At the bottom of the document was a line of text:
Final beneficiary authorization — executed under the authority of William Carter.
Then my phone rang.
Vanessa.
I answered.
Her voice was trembling.
"Emily, you have to listen to me. Brandon didn't forge your grandfather's signature.""
I gripped the phone.
"Then who did?""
She began crying.
"Your grandfather signed something before he died. Something nobody was supposed to find.""
I looked at my father.
He had already stood up.
Vanessa whispered her next words.
"And Emily, the original document is still in your grandfather's old house.""
A pause.
May you like
Then she added:
"Michael is going there tonight to destroy it.""
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