Chapter 13 - The Price of Fighting Back
The hearing lasted six hours.
Cole’s attorneys displayed graphs showing the company’s falling credit availability.
They presented frightened employees.
They played Nathan’s incriminating recording.
They argued Evelyn’s personal vendetta was destroying Wren’s inheritance.
Then they called Cole.
He wore a dark suit and spoke softly.
“I loved Nathan.”
Evelyn almost laughed.
Cole continued.
“I am not proud of every financial decision we made. But Nathan was the founder and controlling shareholder. I followed his directions.”
Leah cross-examined him.
“Did you own Barrett Strategic Holdings?”
“Yes.”
“Did you disclose that ownership to the board?”
“I believed Nathan had.”
“Did you personally receive more than two million dollars from transactions routed through Bracken Ridge?”
“Compensation and repayment of advances.”
“Do you have board resolutions approving those payments?”
“Not with me.”
“Do they exist?”
Cole hesitated.
“I believe so.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Leah let the silence hang.
Then:
“Did you tell the Mercer board you never accessed Nathan Mercer’s patient portal?”
Cole’s attorney objected.
The judge sustained.
“This is a trust proceeding, counsel.”
Leah changed direction.
“Did you return to Nathan’s residence after 11 p.m. the night before his death?”
“No.”
Wren stiffened beside Evelyn.
Leah glanced at her.
“Nothing further.”
The judge ruled at 5:22 p.m.
Evelyn was not removed permanently.
But due to the company’s instability and competing allegations, the court appointed an independent co-trustee for corporate voting decisions until the litigation resolved.
Evelyn lost unilateral control of Nathan’s shares.
Cole smiled when they left.
“You should have taken the house deal.”
Evelyn turned on him.
“You changed his medication.”
Cole’s smile vanished.
“You can’t prove that.”
It was the first time he had said it that way.
Not I didn’t.
You can’t prove it.
Leah heard.
So did Briggs, standing fifteen feet away.
But it still wasn’t enough for arrest.
That night, Evelyn made a mistake.
A serious one.
She called Samuel Price and begged him to suspend Cole immediately.
Samuel agreed to meet privately.
Cole discovered the meeting.
By morning, he had circulated a claim that Evelyn was improperly pressuring directors while subject to court supervision.
The independent co-trustee restricted her direct communication with Mercer directors.
Leah was furious.
“I told you not to freelance.”
“People are going to lose their jobs.”
“And now you look exactly like the reckless fiduciary Cole described.”
“I was trying to help.”
“That doesn’t make it smart.”
Evelyn heard Nathan’s confession in her mind.
I told myself I was protecting them.
She had repeated his mistake.
Good intentions.
Secret action.
Consequences.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me. Learn.”
Cole exploited the setback.
He announced a restructuring plan under which an outside investment group would inject five million dollars in exchange for a controlling equity position if the company entered a negotiated recapitalization.
Peter investigated the investor.
He called Evelyn that night.
“You’re going to love this.”
“I doubt it.”
“The investment fund’s manager is Cole’s former college roommate.”
Evelyn sat upright.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning Cole may be engineering a distressed sale to friendly capital.”
“He crashes Mercer, dilutes Nathan’s shares, keeps control.”
“Potentially.”
“How do we stop it?”
“Proof.”
Again that word.
Then Helen arrived unexpectedly.
She looked terrified.
“I remembered something.”
Evelyn stood.
“What?”
“The morning Nathan died. At the hospital.”
Helen gripped her handbag.
“Cole came before you.”
“That’s impossible. I was in the ambulance.”
“You arrived through emergency intake. I was brought to a family room. Cole was already there.”
Evelyn’s skin prickled.
“What did he do?”
“He asked a nurse for Nathan’s belongings.”
“Did she give them to him?”
“No.”
“He kept asking about the medication bottle.”
Evelyn stared.
“Why didn’t you remember this?”
“Because my son was dying.”
Helen’s voice broke.
“But I remember now. He said, ‘If they ask, tell them Nathan sometimes doubled his own dose.’”
Evelyn went completely still.
“He told you to say that?”
Helen nodded.
“And I slapped him.”
For the first time in weeks, Evelyn almost smiled.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing. He looked at me and said I would regret making him the enemy.”
Wren had appeared in the doorway.
Evelyn saw her listening.
Before she could speak, Wren’s tablet chimed.
A new anonymous message.
This time there was a photograph.
May you like
Wren asleep in Helen’s guest bedroom.
Taken from outside the window.
