Chapter 7 - beneath the seal
Charlotte did not tell Rebecca.
That was the part she would later regret most.
She told herself she would be inside the house for five minutes.
Her parents were supposedly meeting Harold downtown.
She still had a key.
She would enter through the kitchen, retrieve the certificate from Gregory's office safe, and leave.
At nine twenty, Charlotte parked one street away.
The house looked dark except for the foyer.
She carried her garment bag because the original commissioning documents were inside it and she no longer trusted leaving them in the car.
The front door opened silently.
No alarm.
Strange.
Her parents always armed the system after eight.
Charlotte stepped inside.
The glossy floor reflected the chandelier.
"Mom?"
No answer.
"Dad?"
Nothing.
She moved toward the study.
Locked.
Charlotte knew Gregory kept an emergency key above the upper door trim.
He assumed no one knew.
Edward had shown Charlotte when she was twelve.
She stood on a chair, found the key, and opened the study.
The room smelled of leather and cedar.
Gregory's desk faced the windows.
The wall safe was hidden behind a painting.
Charlotte knew the combination had once been Cynthia's birthday.
She tried it.
Nothing.
Then Gregory's birthday.
Nothing.
Then Charlotte's own.
The safe opened.
She stared at it.
Even now, Gregory had used her birthday.
Inside were cash envelopes.
Passports.
A handgun locked inside a case.
Corporate seals.
And the original trust certificate.
Charlotte removed it.
Heavy cream paper.
Embossed edge.
Raised Palmer seal.
She turned it over.
Nothing.
Then she remembered.
Look beneath the seal.
Charlotte examined the raised gold emblem in the lower corner.
Using a fingernail, she discovered that part of the decorative backing lifted.
Behind it was a tiny folded piece of paper.
She opened it.
There were only three lines.
Harold witnessed the original restriction agreement.
Copy filed separately with Miriam Cole.
If coercion occurs, call Miriam before Harold.
Charlotte stared.
Miriam Cole.
She knew the name.
Edward Palmer's former executive assistant.
Miriam had disappeared from the company soon after his death.
Gregory told everyone she retired to Arizona.
Charlotte took a photograph.
Then she heard a sound.
A floorboard outside the study.
She froze.
"Charlotte."
Gregory.
Her blood went cold.
He stood in the doorway.
Navy shirt.
Black pants.
No jacket.
He looked at the open safe.
Then at the certificate.
"You never could leave things alone."
Charlotte backed away.
"I thought you were downtown."
"I thought you were smarter than this."
She looked past him.
The hallway was empty.
"Where's Mom?"
"Upstairs."
So Cynthia was here.
Charlotte slipped the note into her pocket.
Gregory noticed.
"What did you find?"
"Nothing."
"Give it to me."
"No."
Gregory entered the room.
Charlotte moved around the desk.
"Stay back."
He stopped.
For a moment, father and daughter stood on opposite sides of the desk Edward Palmer had once used.
Gregory looked tired.
Not defeated.
Tired.
"You think I'm some monster."
"You forged my name."
"I kept this company alive."
"You stole from my trust."
"I borrowed."
"You used forty-six million dollars."
"And returned value to the family worth ten times that."
"Not to me."
Gregory's face hardened.
"You don't know what it takes to build anything."
"Grandpa built it."
That landed.
Gregory stepped closer.
Charlotte did not move.
"Your grandfather spent his entire life making sure I knew he didn't trust me."
"Maybe he had a reason."
Gregory stared at her.
Then his expression changed into something almost sad.
"He loved controlling people too."
"No."
"You think that trust was love? It was a weapon."
"Against you?"
"Against everyone."
Charlotte looked at the certificate.
"Then why are you so desperate to get it?"
"Because lenders don't care about your grandfather's moral lessons."
"My commission gives me control."
"Your commission gives a twenty-four-year-old child the ability to destroy a company she has never managed."
Charlotte raised her chin.
"Then you should have told me the truth."
Gregory's mouth tightened.
"Would you have signed?"
"No."
"Exactly."
Charlotte understood.
In Gregory's mind, refusal justified deception.
She moved toward the door.
He blocked it.
"Move."
"We need to finish this tonight."
"I am not signing anything."
"You will."
Charlotte's heart began pounding.
"Move."
Cynthia appeared behind him on the staircase landing.
She looked at Charlotte.
Then at Gregory.
"What is she doing here?"
Charlotte laughed once.
"Apparently making everyone's evening inconvenient."
Cynthia came down.
"You were told not to come."
"You brought me a fake certificate."
"I brought you what you needed."
"No. You brought me bait."
Gregory held out his hand.
"Give me the certificate."
Charlotte backed into the foyer.
"No."
Her garment bag lay on the bench beside the staircase.
She moved toward it.
Gregory followed.
Cynthia looked frightened now.
Not of Charlotte.
Of Gregory.
"Let her leave."
Gregory turned.
Cynthia immediately lowered her eyes.
That tiny movement told Charlotte something important.
Her mother was not only protecting Gregory.
She was afraid of him.
Maybe she had been for years.
Charlotte grabbed the garment bag.
Gregory said, "You leave with that certificate, and tomorrow everything changes."
Charlotte looked at him.
"That's the idea."
She started up the first few steps because the fastest route to the side exit passed the upper hallway.
Gregory followed.
Charlotte heard a metallic scrape.
She turned.
The crowbar was in his hand.
She had not seen him pick it up.
Cynthia whispered, "Gregory."
Charlotte's stomach dropped.
Her father stopped on the step below her.
The crowbar rested against his leg.
"You are not going anywhere tomorrow."
May you like
At that exact moment, somewhere behind the closed study door, Harold Bennett waited with the transfer papers.
And Charlotte finally understood that her parents had never intended to let her simply walk away.
