CHAP 3— THE HOUSE THAT BELONGED TO WREN
Evelyn Calder arrived at eight the next morning carrying three binders.
The thickest had WREN MERCER TRUST printed across the spine.
Mara made coffee.
I didn't drink mine.
Wren was upstairs watching cartoons with Desmond.
Calder opened the binder.
“Birchgate was originally owned by Elise's grandmother, Beatrice Wren Thorne.”
“I knew that.”
“When Beatrice died, she left the residence and thirty-eight surrounding acres in trust.”
“To Elise.”
Calder shook her head.
“To Elise's first biological child.”
I stared at her.
“Wren.”
“Yes.”
My wife had explained that the property was complicated, but Elise had never cared about money.
We had lived there because it was home.
I had paid taxes, repairs, insurance.
I had never asked who would technically own the walls twenty years from now.
Calder slid a document toward me.
“The trust was valued at approximately four million dollars when Elise died.”
I looked up.
“Four?”
“Property values have changed.”
“How much now?”
“Possibly eight to ten.”
Mara stopped pouring coffee.
Calder continued.
“Especially because Armitage Development has been acquiring land near the highway corridor.”
The name was familiar.
A developer had sent letters.
Corinne had encouraged me to answer them.
I had refused because I didn't want subdivisions surrounding the orchard Elise loved.
A memory hit me.
Corinne standing in our kitchen six months earlier.
You can't preserve everything just because it belonged to your dead wife.
At the time, I thought it was jealousy.
Now it sounded different.
“What authority does Wren's guardian have?”
“Limited authority. The trustee controls the property until Wren reaches twenty-five.”
“Who's trustee?”
“North Valley Fiduciary.”
“So Corinne couldn't sell it.”
“No.”
Relief lasted three seconds.
Calder opened another section.
“But a court-appointed guardian could petition for expenditures benefiting Wren.”
I understood.
“Legal fees.”
“Maintenance.”
“Renovations.”
“Educational expenses.”
“Management costs.”
Calder nodded.
“And potentially a long-term development lease if presented as necessary to preserve trust value.”
My stomach turned.
“Corinne couldn't become Wren's guardian while I'm alive.”
“Not easily.”
The last two words mattered.
“What would she need?”
“Evidence that you were unfit.”
Silence.
Mara sat slowly.
Calder pulled out another paper.
“This was sent to my office yesterday morning.”
A draft petition.
PETITION FOR EMERGENCY TEMPORARY GUARDIANSHIP.
Petitioner:
CORINNE MERCER.
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
My hands started shaking.
The document alleged that I worked excessive hours.
That I was emotionally unstable following Elise's death.
That Wren suffered behavioral problems because of my inconsistent parenting.
That food insecurity in the home had been caused by my financial mismanagement.
I looked at Calder.
“This says I wasn't feeding her.”
“Yes.”
The room seemed to tilt.
The locked pantry.
The weight loss.
The warnings to Wren.
Corinne hadn't merely been hurting her.
She had been manufacturing a story.
“She was starving my daughter,” I whispered, “so she could blame me.”
Calder didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
A sound came from the hallway.
Desmond.
He stood barefoot beside the door.
He had heard me.
“Mom said something about a judge.”
I turned.
“When?”
“Last month.”
He walked into the room.
“She was on the phone with a man.”
“What did she say?”
Desmond frowned.
“That you wouldn't know what was happening until it was too late.”
Calder and I exchanged a look.
“Did she say the man's name?”
“No.”
He thought.
“Maybe Pike.”
Calder's face changed.
“Pike?”
Desmond nodded.
“Harlan Pike.”
Evelyn Calder closed the binder.
Very slowly.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
She looked toward the stairs to make sure Wren wasn't there.
“Harlan Pike represented Elise's mother fifteen years ago.”
My mind went blank.
“Elise's mother?”
“Lila Mercer.”
“Elise's last name was Thorne.”
“Before marriage, yes.”
Calder paused.
“Her mother remarried.”
“Why would her mother need a lawyer?”
“To challenge Beatrice's trust.”
The room went still.
“Lila believed the Birchgate property should have gone to her instead of her future grandchild.”
“And she lost?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she now?”
“No one knows.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“She disappeared from family contact several years before Elise died.”
Desmond interrupted.
“My mom knows a Lila.”
Every adult turned.
“What?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Mom has a box in her closet.”
“What box?”
“Old pictures.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“One of them says Lila on the back.”
Calder leaned forward.
“Desmond, are you sure?”
He nodded.
“I asked who she was.”
“What did your mom say?”
May you like
His answer changed everything again.
“She said she was family.”
