Chapter 8 - The Scope of the Theft
I sank into a kitchen chair, my heart thumping against my ribs. "What do you mean?"
"Your father’s estate was never insolvent," Arthur explained, paper shuffling audibly in the background. "Your mother and brother liquidated not only the insurance policy, but they also took out a second mortgage on your parents' family home, forged your signature on an estate waiver, and transferred two separate investment portfolios into Jake’s name. The total amount diverted is closer to eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars."
The room spun. Eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
My father had been a quiet, diligent civil engineer. He had worked for the state for thirty-four years, brown-bagging his lunch every single day, driving a ten-year-old sedan, never buying anything flashy. He hadn't left us broke. He had built a fortress to protect us.
And Jake and Evelyn had torn it down to fund country club memberships, luxury leases, and custom suits.
"Arthur," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I don't have money for a lawyer. I make eleven dollars an hour plus tips. I can't afford to fight them in probate court."
A low, dry chuckle came over the line.
"Ms. Hayes, you misunderstand me," Arthur said. "I am not offering you a referral. I am offering you my personal representation, pro bono. My firm will handle the probate contest, the civil recovery, and the criminal referral to the state attorney general's office. In fact, we filed emergency motions two hours ago. Every single bank account tied to Jake Hayes and Hayes Dynamics LLC has been frozen under a court-ordered injunction. He cannot buy a cup of coffee this morning."
Tears sprang to my eyes—hot, cleansing tears that washed away three years of self-doubt, exhaustion, and shame.
May you like
"Why are you doing this for us?" I asked.
"Because Jake tried to use my daughter’s name and my reputation to legitimize his theft," Arthur said, his voice turning cold as winter steel. "And because I despise men who prey on their own families. There is an envelope being delivered to your apartment by a courier in twenty minutes. It contains an advance draft from our firm’s trust account to cover your living expenses while the estate is settled. Do not refuse it. Consider it a retainer for being the bravest woman in that ballroom."
