Chapter 4 - THE ARCHITECT KNEW NOTHING
At eight the next morning, I called the architect.
His name was Michael Avery.
He sounded confused when I introduced myself.
“Charlotte Reed?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“I thought Brandon was the sole owner.”
“That’s what he told you?”
“That’s what the paperwork indicated.”
I closed my eyes.
“What exactly are you renovating?”
Michael hesitated.
“A full interior redesign.”
“What rooms?”
“The west bedroom wing, kitchen, primary suite, and downstairs office.”
I sat very still.
“What is happening to the downstairs office?”
“It’s being converted into a private suite for Mrs. Reed.”
I almost laughed.
“Which Mrs. Reed?”
Another pause.
“Gertrude.”
Of course.
“What about the guest room Hailey uses?”
“That wall is being removed.”
“For what?”
“A larger dressing room.”
I looked toward Skylar, who was brushing her hair in the hotel mirror.
“And my daughter’s room?”
Michael became quiet.
“What?”
“Skylar’s bedroom.”
He cleared his throat.
“I was told that room would become storage.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“Where was Skylar supposed to sleep?”
“Mr. Reed said the child would be staying primarily with her maternal grandmother.”
My mother lived in Arizona.
Skylar had not spent more than two weeks there at a time.
Brandon had invented an entire custody arrangement.
Michael sounded increasingly uncomfortable.
“Mrs. Reed, I had no idea there was a disagreement.”
“There isn’t a disagreement.”
My voice went cold.
“There’s fraud.”
He inhaled sharply.
“I need to call my attorney.”
“So do I.”
“We should cancel today.”
“No.”
He went silent.
“Please attend.”
“Why?”
“Because I need you to hear what Brandon says when he thinks everyone is still cooperating.”
Michael did not answer immediately.
Then he said, “I’ll be there.”
At 8:47 a.m., Evelyn arrived at the hotel.
She carried two folders and looked like she had not slept.
Skylar smiled.
“Aunt Evelyn.”
Evelyn hugged her.
“You ready for breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“No instant soup.”
Skylar grinned.
That small smile reminded me what all of this was really about.
While Skylar ate pancakes downstairs, Evelyn and I reviewed the plan.
We would not enter the house first.
Michael would arrive normally.
The lender’s investigator would join by video.
A county fraud investigator had been notified.
Evelyn would stay with me.
No confrontation without witnesses.
No threats.
No emotional explosion.
Evidence first.
Everything else later.
At 9:32 a.m., my phone rang.
Gertrude.
I answered.
Her voice was unusually sweet.
“Charlotte, dear.”
I almost admired the performance.
“Gertrude.”
“We all got emotional last night.”
“I didn’t.”
She ignored that.
“Come home.”
“Why?”
“Family shouldn’t behave this way.”
I stared at Evelyn.
“You’re right.”
Gertrude relaxed.
“I knew you’d understand.”
Then I asked.
“What color are you painting my office?”
The line went dead silent.
I smiled.
“Gertrude?”
Her voice changed completely.
“What have you been snooping through?”
“My own life.”
She hung up.
Evelyn looked at me.
“Well?”
“She knows.”
“Then we move.”
May you like
I picked up my coat.
It was time to go home.
