Chapter 10 - The Numbers Hannah Wanted Me to SeeLeah read Hannah's letter twice.
Then she placed it carefully beside the photograph I'd received in the mail.
"Do you know who sent this picture?" she asked.
"No."
"Did Hannah ever mention a dispute over the mansion?"
"She argued with Malcolm about money all the time."
"What kind of money?"
I leaned back.
"She thought he spent too much maintaining the property. Said the mansion was swallowing the family alive."
Leah nodded.
"That may matter."
She spread several documents across her desk.
The Whitcomb family's real estate arrangement was more complicated than I'd understood.
Vivian Whitcomb, Hannah's mother, had established a trust that held an interest in the company owning the mansion and surrounding grounds.
The trust provided separate beneficial interests for Hannah and Celeste, with provisions for descendants.
Following Hannah's death, Rosie succeeded to Hannah's beneficial interest under those provisions.
Malcolm controlled a management company that operated the mansion.
He was also one of the people exercising authority over the related property arrangements.
I'd heard these details before.
I just hadn't understood their consequences.
"So Rosie doesn't own a bedroom or a piece of the staircase," I said.
"Correct. Her rights concern a beneficial interest and the proper administration of the trust."
"Then why is Celeste obsessed with Hannah's chair?"
Leah paused.
"Because the chair represents something the family refuses to acknowledge."
"What?"
"That Hannah's death didn't erase her branch of the family."
I looked down.
The words hurt more than I expected.
Hannah was gone.
But Rosie still belonged.
And perhaps that was precisely what Celeste couldn't tolerate.
Leah showed me a summary of the financial information we'd obtained.
There were management fees.
Maintenance charges.
Consulting contracts.
Insurance costs.
Renovation expenses.
The numbers were enormous.
Some were understandable for a historic estate.
Others required explanation.
One company had received hundreds of thousands of dollars for strategic property consulting over several years.
It shared an address with Malcolm's management company.
"Is that illegal?" I asked.
"Not automatically. Related-party transactions can be legitimate, depending on disclosure, authority, fairness, and the governing documents."
"Then what's suspicious?"
"The trustees have not provided the records needed to evaluate these expenses despite repeated requests."
I examined the figures.
"And the restructuring?"
"The family wants to refinance the estate's debt and approve new ownership terms. They're presenting it as necessary to preserve the property."
"Necessary for whom?"
Leah looked at me.
"That's the question."
She explained that the proposed transaction could substantially reduce the future value of Rosie's interest if the family's assumptions and reported liabilities were accepted without independent review.
The settlement offer was designed to close the dispute quickly.
I stared at the two hundred fifty thousand dollar figure printed near the bottom.
It had looked like a fortune yesterday.
Now it looked like a number someone had chosen because they believed I'd be desperate enough to accept it.
"Can we stop the meeting?"
"We can demand information, object, and seek court intervention where justified. We need to establish the legal basis."
"Do it."
"Daniel, this could take time."
"Then it takes time."
She watched me for a moment.
"You're different from when you first called."
I almost smiled.
"No. I'm still angry."
"That's not what I meant."
I looked at Hannah's letter.
"I keep thinking about all the things she tried to tell me."
"You couldn't have known everything."
"I didn't want to know."
Leah said nothing.
And I appreciated that.
I had spent years convincing myself that refusing to discuss the Whitcomb money made me honorable.
But Hannah hadn't needed me to reject her inheritance.
She'd needed me to listen when she said something was wrong.
I had mistaken avoidance for independence.
That afternoon, Leah prepared formal demands for records and preservation of documents relevant to the proposed transaction.
She also began evaluating whether immediate judicial relief was necessary.
I returned home with copies of Hannah's note and the financial summary.
Rosie was sitting at the kitchen table with her stuffed rabbits.
She looked up.
"Daddy, can we have dinner in the living room?"
"Sure."
"On the floor?"
"Absolutely."
She smiled.
I spread a blanket over the carpet.
We ate grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup while watching cartoons.
For half an hour, no one mentioned Celeste.
No one discussed money.
No one asked Rosie to explain her bruises.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
Tell your lawyer to check who personally guaranteed the mansion's debt.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
It was the second anonymous contact connected to Hannah's old concerns.
And this one pointed directly toward the money.
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