PART 9 — THERESA TRIED TO TAKE MY COMPANY

“To transfer your company.”
For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.
Andrew stood across the living room watching me.
He couldn’t hear Elena, but whatever he saw on my face made him stop moving.
I turned away from him.
“Elena, explain exactly what you mean.”
“I need you to understand that I didn’t know everything when I notarized the documents.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I know.”
“So we’re already past the part where you convince me you were innocent.”
“I’m not innocent.”
Her voice cracked.
“I’m trying to fix what I did.”
“Then start talking.”
She inhaled shakily.
“The authorization wasn’t supposed to transfer your company automatically.”
“What was it supposed to do?”
“It gave the authorized representative power to sign certain business documents if you were unavailable.”
“Andrew.”
“Yes.”
“And Theresa told him it was temporary management authority.”
“Yes.”
I looked at my husband.
He mouthed:
What?
I held up one finger.
Wait.
“What changed?” I asked Elena.
“The attachment.”
“What attachment?”
“There was a second document.”
My stomach tightened.
“Of course there was.”
“It was called a conditional assignment.”
“Meaning?”
“If certain conditions were certified, the authorized representative could execute an assignment of your ownership interest.”
“To the Carter Family Property Trust.”
“Yes.”
“What conditions?”
Elena became quiet.
“Elena.”
“Incapacity.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“What?”
“If you were legally unable to manage the company for a specified period, the document supposedly allowed the transfer.”
“Supposedly?”
“The paperwork is a mess, Carla. Some parts contradict each other. Some signatures are missing. I don’t know whether any of it would survive a legal challenge.”
“But Theresa tried.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday morning.”
Yesterday.
While I was still returning from Miami.
Before I had confronted anyone.
Before the deed hit the coffee table.
Before the thirty-day notice.
This had already been happening.
“What did she submit?”
“A certification package.”
“Certifying what?”
“That you were unavailable and had failed to exercise management authority for thirty consecutive days.”
I almost laughed.
“I was working.”
“I know.”
“I answered emails from Miami.”
“I know.”
“I had meetings before the trip.”
“I know.”
“Then how could she possibly claim I was unavailable?”
“She couldn’t truthfully.”
There was the important word.
Truthfully.
“What did she use?”
“A letter.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“You saw the package.”
“Only part of it.”
“Who wrote the letter?”
“I said I don’t know.”
Her voice rose.
Then immediately softened.
“I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
“Keep going.”
“The filing was rejected for additional verification.”
Relief hit me.
“Rejected?”
“Not permanently. They requested supporting documentation.”
“How much time does Theresa have?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is she?”
“I think the lake house.”
Andrew stepped toward me.
I held up my hand again.
“Elena, why did you disappear?”
Silence.
“Why are you hiding?”
“Because I confronted her.”
“Theresa?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“What happened?”
“I told her I wanted my name removed from everything. I told her I was going to contact you.”
“And?”
“She told me I had already committed enough crimes that nobody would believe I was suddenly growing a conscience.”
I glanced toward Andrew.
He was watching me carefully.
“What else?”
“She said if I spoke, she’d tell investigators I created everything myself.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“But you participated.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I notarized the postnup.”
“Knowing I wasn’t there.”
“Yes.”
“I copied my signature?”
Elena started crying again.
“Yes.”
“The business authorization?”
“Yes.”
“The insurance form?”
“No.”
I froze.
“You didn’t do that one?”
“No.”
“A previous message told me Theresa did.”
“She did.”
“You knew?”
“I found out later.”
“And Andrew?”
“I don’t know how much he knew.”
I looked at him.
He looked genuinely terrified now.
“Elena, I need every document you have.”
“I made copies.”
“Send them to my attorney.”
“I don’t know if I should trust—”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
She became quiet.
“You forged my name. You participated in an attempt to manipulate ownership of my company. If you’re actually trying to make this right, you send everything.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll text you David’s information.”
“Okay.”
“And Elena?”
“Yes?”
“Call your mother.”
She started crying harder.
“She thinks you’re missing.”
“I know.”
“She deserves to know you’re alive.”
“I’ll call her.”
I almost ended the call.
Then something occurred to me.
“Elena?”
“Yes?”
“Who first suggested the company transfer?”
Silence.
“Theresa?”
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“Andrew?”
Across the room, my husband stared at me.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Elena hesitated.
“I don’t know his full name.”
“What do you mean?”
“I only heard Aunt Theresa call him Mr. Mercer.”
“Lawyer?”
“I think some kind of financial adviser.”
“Did Andrew meet him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Rachel?”
“No.”
“What did he want?”
“I heard him tell Theresa the company was worth much more than she realized.”
My skin prickled.
“How would he know what my private company is worth?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he have financial records?”
“I saw spreadsheets.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“What spreadsheets?”
“Revenue. Contracts. Assets. Projections.”
Those weren’t public.
Somebody had given Theresa confidential information about my business.
“Elena, send everything.”
“I will.”
The call ended.
I stood completely still.
Andrew finally spoke.
“What did she say?”
I looked at him.
“Do you know someone named Mercer?”
He frowned.
“Who?”
“Mr. Mercer.”
“No.”
“Think.”
“I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“Your mother does.”
“What does this have to do with Mom?”
“She tried to transfer my company into your trust yesterday.”
His face went blank.
“What?”
I watched him closely.
If he was acting, he deserved an award.
“She tried to use the authorization.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Carla. That wasn’t possible.”
“Apparently she disagreed.”
“That document wasn’t supposed to transfer anything.”
“That’s what Theresa told you.”
His eyes widened.
I saw the moment he understood.
“She lied to me.”
“Welcome to the club.”
He sat heavily.
“No.”
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“I told her to destroy it.”
“When?”
“After I discovered the postnup.”
“You discovered that too?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“You told me a month ago.”
“I wasn’t keeping track of the exact day.”
“Convenient.”
He looked up.
“I swear to you, I never agreed to take your company.”
“But you agreed to documents being prepared without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“You agreed to hiding assets.”
His eyes dropped.
“Yes.”
“You let your mother practice my signature.”
“I didn’t let her.”
“You saw it and walked away.”
“I know.”
“And you benefited from the lake house.”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t expect me to separate you from this because Theresa lied to you too.”
He nodded slowly.
“I don’t.”
That surprised me.
Then he said:
“I’ll help you stop her.”
I stared at him.
“You think we’re a team now?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I just know where she keeps documents at the lake house.”
That caught my attention.
“Where?”
“There’s a safe.”
“Combination?”
“I know it.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why do you know the combination?”
“Because Mom asked me to put the original deed there after closing.”
I picked up my keys.
“Carla.”
“What?”
“You’re not going there.”
I almost laughed.
“Watch me.”
“Mom is there.”
“That’s precisely why I’m going.”
“She knows you’ve discovered something.”
“Good.”
“She can become irrational when she feels cornered.”
My mother appeared on the staircase.
“Then Carla isn’t going alone.”
I looked at her.
“You were listening?”
“Every word after ‘transfer my company.’”
“Mom.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“We’re going to David first.”
That was the smarter move.
Andrew stood.
“I’m coming too.”
“No.”
“Carla, if you need the safe—”
“Give me the combination.”
“She may have changed it.”
“Then your presence won’t help.”
“She’ll talk to me.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
He looked hurt.
I didn’t care.
My phone buzzed.
David.
COME DIRECTLY TO MY OFFICE. DO NOT GO TO THE LAKE PROPERTY.
Then another:
Elena sent documents. We have a bigger problem.
I called immediately.
“What happened?”
David didn’t waste time.
“The attempted transfer wasn’t the first filing.”
My stomach sank.
“What do you mean?”
“Someone submitted a preliminary ownership notice three months ago.”
“Who?”
“The Carter Family Property Trust.”
Andrew heard that.
His face changed.
“What does that mean?”
David continued.
“It appears someone was trying to create a paper trail suggesting your company had already agreed to a future transfer.”
“I never agreed to anything.”
“I know.”
“Then stop it.”
“We will.”
“Can they take my company?”
“Not simply because they filed paperwork. But we need to move quickly, preserve evidence, and formally challenge anything fraudulent.”
I exhaled.
Finally.
Something concrete.
“I’m coming.”
“Good.”
Then David lowered his voice.
“And bring Andrew if he’ll cooperate.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because his name appears on something Elena just sent me.”
My eyes moved to my husband.
“What?”
“A signed acknowledgment.”
“Of the transfer?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“An acknowledgment that the trust was created partly to receive marital assets upon a triggering event.”
My mouth went dry.
“What triggering event?”
“That’s the problem. The document doesn’t define it clearly.”
“Did Andrew sign it?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“Andrew.”
He swallowed.
“What?”
“Did you sign an acknowledgment involving marital assets?”
His face changed.
“I signed trust paperwork.”
“What did you think it meant?”
“That if we divorced, the lake house stayed separate.”
David heard him.
“Put me on speaker.”
I did.
“Andrew,” David said, “did anyone explain that the trust might receive other marital assets?”
“No.”
“Did you read the document?”
Andrew hesitated.
My mother closed her eyes.
I already knew the answer.
“No,” he admitted.
David sighed.
“Come to my office.”
We left fifteen minutes later.
Andrew rode separately.
At David’s office, the conference table was already covered with printed documents.
David shook my hand.
Then Andrew’s.
Then he looked at all three of us.
“I need everyone to understand something.”
We sat.
“Based on what I’ve reviewed, I see evidence of forged signatures, questionable notarization, unauthorized filings, and attempted asset transfers. I’m not going to speculate about criminal liability. We preserve everything and handle this properly.”
I nodded.
Andrew looked sick.
David opened a folder.
“Elena sent me thirty-eight files.”
“Thirty-eight?”
“Yes.”
“She kept everything.”
“Apparently.”
He pulled out an email.
“This one matters.”
He slid it toward Andrew.
“Recognize it?”
Andrew read.
His face drained.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“An email from Mom.”
“Read the last paragraph.”
Andrew did.
Then he stopped.
“What?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
I took the page.
Theresa had written:
Once the arrangement is complete, Carla’s assets will be protected from outsiders, and Andrew will finally have the security he deserves.
Below that:
Mercer says the valuation makes the risk worthwhile.
Mercer again.
I looked at David.
“Who is Mercer?”
“We’re working on that.”
Andrew suddenly spoke.
“I know.”
Everyone turned toward him.
I stared.
“Five minutes ago you didn’t.”
“I didn’t recognize the surname.”
“Then what changed?”
“The valuation.”
He looked at me.
“About two years ago, Mom introduced me to a man named Victor.”
My pulse quickened.
“Victor Mercer?”
“I guess.”
“What did he do?”
“He called himself a wealth strategist.”
“What did he want?”
“He asked questions about you.”
“What questions?”
“Your company. Revenue. Whether you had investors. Whether you planned to sell.”
“And you answered?”
“Some.”
I couldn’t believe him.
“You gave a stranger information about my company?”
“He said he was helping Mom with estate planning.”
“How would my company be relevant to Theresa’s estate?”
Andrew had no answer.
David leaned forward.
“Did you send him documents?”
“No.”
“Financial statements?”
“No.”
“Emails?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
Andrew thought.
Then his face changed.
“My laptop.”
“What about it?”
“Mom borrowed it.”
“When?”
“About eighteen months ago.”
“For what?”
“She said hers wasn’t working.”
My stomach dropped.
Andrew’s laptop had access to some shared folders.
Not everything.
But enough.
David immediately asked:
“Did your device have saved credentials for Carla’s business systems?”
Andrew looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
I did.
Years earlier, I had logged into a financial dashboard from Andrew’s laptop while mine was being repaired.
I had changed the password afterward.
But downloads could have remained.
Old statements.
Reports.
Forecasts.
I whispered:
“Oh my God.”
David stood.
“We need to document exactly what information may have been accessible.”
My phone rang.
Rachel.
I answered.
“Rachel?”
Her voice was frantic.
“Carla, where are you?”
“With my attorney.”
“Good.”
“What happened?”
“I went to the lake house.”
My entire body tensed.
“Why?”
“To find Theresa.”
“Is she there?”
“No.”
“Then where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“But someone was here.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“The safe is open.”
Andrew stood.
“What?”
I put Rachel on speaker.
“What do you mean open?”
“The door is hanging open. Papers are everywhere.”
“Don’t touch anything,” David said immediately.
Rachel recognized his authority and stopped.
“Okay.”
“Leave the property if you feel unsafe.”
“I’m leaving.”
Then Rachel said:
“Carla, there’s something on the floor.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of what?”
“You.”
Silence filled the conference room.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“It looks like outside your office.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Anything written on it?”
Rachel bent closer.
Then she became quiet.
“Rachel?”
“There’s a date.”
“What date?”
She read it.
Three months earlier.
The same week the preliminary ownership notice had been filed.
Then she said:
“And there are words on the back.”
My throat tightened.
“What words?”
Rachel read them slowly.
SHE STILL DOESN’T KNOW. PROCEED WITH PHASE TWO.
Nobody spoke.
Then Andrew whispered:
“Phase two.”
I looked at him.
“You’ve heard that before?”
His face had gone white.
“Once.”
“From whom?”
He swallowed.
“Victor.”
David leaned forward.
“When?”
Andrew stared at the photograph Rachel had just sent to my phone.
“About six months ago.”
“What did he say?”
Andrew looked at me.
“He told my mother phase one was about protecting assets.”
“And phase two?”
“I asked him.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did he say?”
Andrew’s voice dropped.
“He said phase two only happened if you became a problem.”

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PART 10 — PHASE TWO