I had those notices.
I had kept them in the blue binder.
They were the same notices Daniel dismissed as meaningless whenever I asked why the company's reported income never matched the distributions I received.
Cole returned to the witness.
“Are you suggesting those notices establish that the disputed transfer never occurred?”
“No,” June answered. “I'm explaining why I questioned whether the document was genuine. The transfer agreement contradicted the company's own records.”
Judge Mercer made a note.
Daniel had spent years telling me the blue binder contained outdated paperwork. Yet his own company continued issuing documents that recognized my ownership.
The evidence did not prove every allegation.
But it gave the court a reason to examine the disputed transaction instead of accepting Daniel's account.
And that was enough to frighten him.
That evening, I received an email from Vanessa.
The subject contained only three words.
You need this.
Attached was a photograph of a memorandum titled Project Lantern.
Beneath it, she had written:
Ask Daniel why he scheduled the investor meeting for the week after your custody hearing.
I called her immediately.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Rachel?”
“What is Project Lantern?”
Silence.
“Vanessa.”
“It's a proposed sale.”
I sat down.
“Of what?”
“The company.”
I looked at the documents spread across my kitchen table.
“How much?”
“Enough to make Daniel believe he could start over somewhere nobody knew him.”
I heard her breathing.
“There's a buyer?”
“A private investment group. They've been negotiating for months.”
“Does the buyer know he doesn't own a controlling interest?”
“I don't think they have the complete shareholder ledger.”
A terrible realization settled over me.
