Chapter 10 - The Man in the Red Scarf)
Greg Marsh arrived at noon on Christmas Day carrying wine and wearing the red scarf.
Snow clung to the shoulders of his camel coat. He stepped into the crowded front hall with the expansive smile of a man entering a party thrown in his honor.
“Merry Christmas, Hales and Pierces.”
The smile disappeared when he saw Samuel Ortiz beside the staircase.
“Greg,” Tiffany said too quickly. “I thought you were spending today with friends.”
“Plans changed.”
Margaret moved into his path. “Did they change at 1:52 yesterday morning?”
Greg glanced at his cousin Donna. “I do not know what you mean.”
“The toll bridge camera does.”
He removed the scarf. “I came into town to see someone.”
“Did that person live in my study?”
“I have never been in your study.”
Lucy stood halfway up the staircase. Her small voice carried through the hall.
“You told me to go back to bed.”
Shane turned toward his daughter. “Lucy, come here.”
She descended slowly and stood beside Margaret. Greg looked at her with something colder than annoyance.
“Children have vivid imaginations,” he said.
“Your voice sounds the same today,” Lucy replied.
Samuel stepped forward. “Mr. Marsh, we would like to ask about documents you notarized for Northstar Hospitality Group.”
“Not on Christmas.”
“You may choose the day. The documents will not.”
Greg reached for the front door.
Margaret held up the old ledger. “Who is M. Vale?”
His hand stopped.
That reaction was more revealing than an answer.
“Where did you get that?” he asked.
“Someone left it for me.”
Greg looked past her at Tiffany. “You said it was destroyed.”
Tiffany shook her head. “I do not know what that is.”
“Then why did you search the safe?” Kevin asked.
She spun toward him. “I did not.”
Greg opened the front door, but a uniformed officer waited on the porch. The officer did not arrest him. He simply explained that a judge had signed an order requiring preservation of Greg’s notary journal and electronic records. Destroying or concealing them would be a separate offense.
Greg’s shoulders lowered.
“I notarized what Tiffany brought me,” he said. “She said Margaret had signed and could not return because of surgery. Kevin confirmed the family investment.”
“I confirmed fifteen thousand,” Kevin said. “Not forty-eight. Not the house.”
“The number was blank when I signed,” Greg replied.
Margaret watched Tiffany. “Was it?”
She said nothing.
Samuel asked Greg to surrender his journal voluntarily. Greg refused. The officer served the order and instructed him not to leave the county. Only then did Greg seem to understand that the family plan had become a criminal investigation.
He sat in the front hall chair and pressed his scarf between both hands.
“I did not take the case,” he said.
“Lucy saw you,” Shane answered.
“She saw a scarf. Donna keeps one just like it in the hall closet. She gave it to me two years ago.”
Everyone looked toward Donna.
Her mouth opened. No sound came.
Greg continued, “I came into town because someone emailed me a picture of Thomas’s ledger. They said I would be blamed unless I found the original.”
“Who emailed you?” Margaret asked.
“Anonymous address.”
“The same person who emailed me about Kevin?”
“Maybe.”
“Why would Thomas’s ledger matter to you?”
Greg rubbed his face. “Years ago, Thomas helped a man buy properties through private notes. I witnessed documents. Nothing illegal, as far as I knew. One deal went bad. Thomas kept records because he trusted paper more than people.”
“M. Vale?”
Greg looked at the ledger. “Michael Vale.”
The name meant nothing to Margaret.
“What does Briarwood is only half mean?”
“Ask Thomas.”
Margaret’s voice turned cold. “Thomas is dead.”
“Then ask whoever gave you that ledger, because it was not in the case when I opened it.”
Lucy drew a quick breath. Shane put his hand on her shoulder.
“You admit you took the case?” Samuel said.
Greg realized his mistake too late.
“I returned the papers.”
“Not the bonds,” Margaret said.
“I never saw any bonds.”
“Not Thomas’s envelope.”
“There was no envelope.”
Samuel led Greg into the study for a formal recorded interview. Donna followed them with her eyes, trembling.
In the kitchen, Tiffany began opening wine for dinner as though the confrontation had not occurred.
“We are still eating?” Brooke whispered.
Margaret tied on her cream apron. “People tell the truth more easily when they believe the performance will continue.”
At three, twenty-five guests took their places around three connected tables. Kevin sat on Margaret’s right. Evelyn sat on her left. Tiffany positioned herself across from them, with Donna and Frank nearby. Greg sat at the far end under Samuel’s watch.
Margaret placed the blue folder on the table.
It now contained copies of every bank record, title document, message, and video transcript. For reasons Evelyn opposed, the original deed had also been returned to Margaret that morning and placed inside as bait. A tiny tracking card rested against its fold.
“If someone is still searching,” Margaret had said, “let them believe they found it.”
Before the first course, Greg’s phone vibrated.
He looked down. His face drained of color.
Margaret could see only part of the message reflected in his wineglass.
WHEN THE LIGHTS GO OUT, TAKE THE DEED.
May you like
Greg looked up at Tiffany.
Tiffany was already looking at Shane.
