Chapter 6 - The Man Who Put My Name in the Trust
Martin Ellison turned the lock from the outside and said, “Claire, I’m not here to hurt you.”
My mother grabbed my arm.
“Don’t believe him.”
The handle moved.
Once.
Then stopped against the deadbolt.
Martin had a key.
Just like Nina had.
Apparently everyone in Las Vegas had access to my apartment except me emotionally.
I held my phone tighter.
Ryan was still connected from the hospital.
“Claire?” he said. “Who’s there?”
“Martin.”
Silence.
Then Ryan's voice hardened.
“Do not open that door.”
Martin heard him.
“Ryan?”
I said nothing.
Martin laughed quietly.
“Of course he’s there somehow.”
Detective Mercer’s voice suddenly came through Ryan’s end.
“Claire, keep Martin talking.”
I looked at my mother.
She shook her head violently.
But Mercer continued.
“Officers are on their way.”
Martin knocked again.
“Claire.”
“What do you want?”
“The photograph.”
I looked down at it.
The original photograph showed five people.
Thomas Hale.
Robert Cole.
Margaret Price.
Rebecca Bennett.
Martin Ellison.
My mother had been standing beside Martin, his arm around her waist.
And someone had written:
HER FATHER PUT HER IN THE TRUST.
I looked at Martin’s younger face.
Then at my mother.
The truth was suddenly obvious.
I still needed to hear it.
“Are you my father?”
Silence outside.
My mother closed her eyes.
Martin answered.
“Yes.”
One word.
Twenty-nine years.
I expected some dramatic physical reaction.
Instead I felt strangely still.
Maybe there was a limit to shock.
Maybe once your fiancé married his half sister as a joke, twenty-three million dollars fell into your temporary control, your mother appeared after eleven years, and your boss announced himself as your father, the human nervous system simply began conserving electricity.
I looked at Rebecca.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“All my life?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you tell me my father left before I was born?”
“Because Martin asked me to.”
A bitter laugh escaped me.
“Of course he did.”
Martin spoke through the door.
“That isn't fair.”
I turned toward it.
“You've been my boss for five years.”
“I know.”
“You interviewed me.”
“Yes.”
“You hired me.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me every day.”
His voice softened.
“I did.”
“And you never told me.”
“I couldn't.”
“You mean you chose not to.”
“Claire, there were reasons.”
“Everybody has reasons.”
I looked at my mother.
“That's the problem.”
Nina stood near the kitchen, watching the door.
“Martin, where have you been?”
He paused.
“Trying to fix this.”
“You disappeared.”
“I needed people to believe I had.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody has been using my credentials.”
Nina and I exchanged a glance.
“Devon found your administrator account on altered records.”
“I know.”
“Did you alter them?”
“No.”
“Did you notarize the trust amendment?”
Silence.
My mother stepped toward the door.
“Answer her.”
Martin finally said, “Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“On the day Thomas died?”
“Yes.”
“Was he alive when he signed it?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
My mother whispered, “Martin.”
“He was.”
“You told me he was unconscious.”
“He woke up.”
“When?”
“Two hours before he died.”
“And you notarized a multimillion-dollar trust amendment?”
“The land wasn't worth millions then.”
“Stop saying that like it changes what you did.”
Martin exhaled.
“Thomas wanted Claire protected.”
The sentence made something inside me snap.
“No.”
“Claire—”
“No more using me as the moral justification for secrets I never asked you to keep.”
Silence.
“You didn't protect me. You turned my life into paperwork.”
“That isn't what happened.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
Martin didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“Why did you put my name in Thomas Hale's trust?”
“I didn't.”
I froze.
The handwriting on the photograph suddenly mattered.
HER FATHER PUT HER IN THE TRUST.
“Then who did?”
“Thomas.”
“But the message—”
“Whoever wrote that wanted you to believe I did.”
My mother frowned.
“Why?”
“Because someone wants Claire to think the amendment is fraudulent.”
Nina said, “Is it?”
“No.”
“How do we know?”
“Because I have the original.”
Everything stopped.
“Where?” I asked.
“With me.”
Martin tapped something against the door.
Paper.
“You brought it here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because this ends tonight.”
Mercer spoke through my phone.
“Claire, do not accept anything from him until officers arrive.”
Martin apparently heard.
“Detective Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You're listening.”
“Step away from the door.”
“I will after Claire has the document.”
“You'll step away now.”
Martin laughed once.
“You still think I'm the problem.”
“Then help me understand why a missing office director is standing outside an employee's apartment with a key he shouldn't have.”
“Because whoever used Claire's badge has access to her personnel file.”
My skin prickled.
“What does that have to do with my apartment?”
Martin answered immediately.
“Emergency contact records.”
My address.
My phone number.
Everything.
Nina looked toward the windows.
I suddenly hated how exposed the room felt.
“Who stole my badge?”
“I don't know.”
“Who altered the records?”
“I don't know.”
“Who sent the agreement to Madison?”
“I have a theory.”
“Who?”
“Evelyn Price.”
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
Martin heard her.
“Rebecca, you don't know Evelyn.”
“I know what happened to her mother.”
“So do I.”
“And you let Margaret carry the blame.”
Martin's voice dropped.
“So did you.”
My mother recoiled.
I looked between the door and her.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Rebecca sat slowly.
“Margaret didn't simply lose her job.”
“What happened?”
“She tried to expose Robert.”
“Ryan's biological father.”
“Yes.”
“She had documents proving he was stealing from Briar Ridge.”
“And?”
“Robert threatened her.”
“With what?”
My mother looked toward the photograph.
“With Ryan.”
I frowned.
“How do you threaten someone with a child who isn't theirs?”
“By threatening to expose why Margaret had been caring for him.”
“Why was she?”
My mother hesitated.
Martin answered instead.
“Susan Hale had a breakdown after Ryan was born.”
My anger softened despite myself.
“For how long?”
“Months.”
“Thomas needed help.”
“And Margaret helped him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Martin became quiet.
My mother finished.
“Because Margaret loved Thomas.”
Another hidden relationship.
Another adult secret built beneath two children's lives.
“Did they have an affair?”
“No,” Rebecca said. “Not then.”
“Then when?”
“After Susan left.”
I closed my eyes.
“This family tree needs a warning label.”
Nina almost laughed.
Nobody else did.
I returned to what mattered.
“What does Evelyn want?”
Martin answered.
“To prove Thomas's trust was built on fraud.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
“Then why manipulate Ryan and Madison into marrying?”
“Because their marriage triggers a mandatory review of the trust.”
“And the attempted annulment triggers disclosure.”
“Yes.”
“Which could expose everything.”
“Yes.”
“Robert's theft.”
“Yes.”
“Ryan's parentage.”
“Yes.”
“My connection to you.”
“Yes.”
“And Margaret's wrongful accusation.”
Martin paused.
“Yes.”
Suddenly Evelyn's actions looked different.
Still deceptive.
Still dangerous.
But understandable.
She wasn't necessarily trying to steal twenty-three million dollars.
She might be trying to expose thirty years of lies.
“Then why the fake signature?”
Martin didn't answer.
“Why did someone impersonate me?”
“I don't think that was Evelyn.”
“Who then?”
“Someone who doesn't want the review completed.”
“Briar Ridge?”
“Possibly.”
Ryan spoke through the phone.
“They're trying to buy the land.”
Martin responded immediately.
“Not anymore.”
Ryan went silent.
“What?”
“The twenty-three-million-dollar offer was withdrawn tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because someone else filed a claim.”
I gripped the phone.
“Who?”
Martin said, “Robert Cole.”
Nobody moved.
Ryan's voice became cold.
“Madison's father is dead.”
“Yes.”
“He's been dead four years.”
“Yes.”
“Then how did he file anything?”
“He didn't.”
“Martin.”
“A corporation bearing his name did.”
Nina whispered, “Cole Heritage Holdings.”
Martin stopped.
“How do you know that name?”
Nina looked at me.
“Devon found it.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That it was created three months ago.”
Martin swore.
“Who owns it?” I asked.
Nina shook her head.
“Shell structure.”
My mother stood.
“Evelyn.”
“No,” Martin said.
“Why not?”
“Because Cole Heritage was registered before Evelyn accessed her mother's files.”
“Then Madison?”
Ryan immediately said, “No.”
I looked at the phone.
“You don't know that.”
“I know Madison.”
I stared at his name on my screen.
“You knew her well enough to marry her today.”
Silence.
The words were cruel.
Also true.
Ryan finally said, “Fair.”
No defense.
Again.
Something in me noticed.
I didn't want it to.
Martin knocked once.
“Claire, officers will be there soon. Take the document.”
“Slide it underneath.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Too thick.”
“Then leave it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody already searched my car for it.”
Mercer interrupted.
“Martin, place the document down and walk toward the elevator.”
“No.”
“That's not a request.”
“You want the original trust, Detective?”
“Yes.”
“Then Claire gets it first.”
“Why?”
Martin hesitated.
“Because Thomas left something inside specifically for her.”
I looked at my mother.
She seemed genuinely confused.
“What?”
“A letter.”
“To me?”
“Yes.”
“Written when?”
“The day he died.”
My heartbeat changed.
“Why didn't you give it to me before?”
“Because Thomas gave instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“You received it only if the trust was triggered.”
“And Ryan marrying Madison triggered it.”
“Yes.”
The absurdity hurt.
A dead man had apparently anticipated disaster better than the living man I had intended to marry.
Mercer said, “Officers are two minutes away.”
Martin lowered his voice.
“Claire, there is something else.”
“What?”
“Thomas knew someone would eventually try to force the trust open.”
“Who?”
“He didn't know.”
“Then what did he know?”
“That Robert had hidden evidence.”
“Where?”
“In the land records.”
“Evidence of what?”
Martin paused.
“Something worse than financial theft.”
My mother whispered, “Don't.”
I turned.
“You know.”
She shook her head.
“Rebecca,” Martin said.
“No.”
“You've hidden enough.”
“So have you.”
“What evidence?” I demanded.
My mother began crying.
“I wanted you outside this.”
“Too late.”
She looked at me.
“Robert didn't just steal money.”
“What did he do?”
“He falsified ownership records.”
“For the Henderson land?”
“Yes.”
“Who actually owned it?”
My mother couldn't answer.
Martin did.
“Margaret Price.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Evelyn's mother?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Her family owned part of the original acreage.”
“So Thomas and Robert bought land they didn't fully own?”
“Robert forged the transfer. Thomas discovered it later.”
“And did nothing?”
“He tried to create the trust to preserve Margaret's interest until he could fix it.”
“By putting Ryan in control?”
“And you.”
“Why me?”
Martin became quiet.
I knew there was another answer.
“Why me?”
“Because Margaret asked him to.”
My mother looked stunned.
“She did?”
“Yes.”
“Margaret knew Claire?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because she knew who Claire's father was.”
My eyes moved toward the door.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Martin hesitated.
“And she knew I had tried to stop Robert.”
For the first time that night, my mother's expression toward Martin softened.
Only slightly.
“What did you do?”
“I copied the original ownership documents before Robert destroyed them.”
“Where are they?”
“In the trust packet.”
The hallway elevator chimed.
Mercer spoke immediately.
“Officers are arriving.”
Martin said, “Good.”
Heavy footsteps approached.
“Police!”
Nina exhaled.
I almost did too.
Then Martin shouted.
“Wait!”
A crash came from outside.
My mother screamed.
I stepped toward the door.
“Martin?”
No answer.
“Martin!”
Mercer shouted through my phone.
“Claire, stay inside!”
Something struck the wall in the hallway.
Then a man yelled.
“Hands where I can see them!”
Another voice.
Then silence.
Terrible silence.
I stared at the door.
“Martin?”
Nothing.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then someone knocked.
“Las Vegas Metropolitan Police. Ms. Bennett, open the door.”
Mercer said, “Verify.”
“Name?”
“Officer Daniel Greene.”
Madison's officer.
Mercer confirmed it.
I unlocked the deadbolt but kept the chain.
Greene showed his badge.
Only then did I open the door.
Martin sat against the opposite wall.
Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow.
An officer stood beside him.
“What happened?”
“Someone came down the stairwell when we arrived,” Greene said.
“Who?”
“Got away.”
“Did they attack Martin?”
“Looks that way.”
Martin lifted his head.
“The packet.”
“What?”
“They took it.”
My stomach dropped.
“The trust?”
“Yes.”
“Thomas's letter?”
“Yes.”
Everything we needed had been outside my door.
Now it was gone.
Ryan spoke through the phone.
“Claire, I'm coming.”
“No.”
“I'm done sitting here.”
“Ryan—”
Then Madison's voice appeared in the background.
“Ryan?”
My body went still.
Madison was at the hospital.
Ryan said, “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to Claire.”
“Not tonight.”
“Ryan, please.”
I raised the phone.
“I'm here.”
Silence.
Then Madison said, “Claire, I found something in my father's storage unit.”
“What?”
“A second envelope.”
My mother stepped closer.
“Whose name?”
Madison hesitated.
“Yours.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“What does it say?”
“I haven't opened it.”
“Why not?”
“Because there's something written across the seal.”
“What?”
Madison read it.
“ONLY CLAIRE BENNETT MAY OPEN THIS AFTER RYAN HALE'S MARRIAGE.”
The hallway disappeared around me.
“Bring it.”
“I already did.”
A door opened on Madison's end.
She stopped speaking.
Ryan said, “Who are you?”
No answer.
Then Madison whispered:
“Oh my God.”
“What?” I demanded.
Her breathing became shallow.
“Madison?”
Ryan said her name.
She didn't answer him.
Then I heard a woman's voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
Evelyn Price.
“Put the envelope down, Madison.”
Ryan moved.
“Evelyn, don't.”
Evelyn ignored him.
“Claire, if you're listening, there is something you need to know before you open it.”
I gripped the phone.
“What?”
“The person who arranged Ryan and Madison's Valentine’s Day dare wasn't Madison.”
Silence.
“Then who was it?”
May you like
Evelyn answered with a name.
And my mother dropped the photograph.
