Hale stopped packing.
Daniel looked confused.
Vanessa did not.
That was the moment I knew.
I turned toward her.
“You’ve seen those names before.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You have.”
“No.”
“Arthur had photographs.”
“Stop.”
Daniel stared at his wife.
“What is she talking about?”
Vanessa turned toward him.
“Nothing.”
I stood.
My cane pressed against the floor.
Slowly, I looked at Judge Mercer.
“Your Honor, my husband spent the final four months of his life reviewing property transfers associated with court-appointed guardianships.”
Mercer’s face had gone white.
“Why?”
“Because twelve of the seventeen properties were eventually purchased by companies connected to Meridian Redevelopment Partners.”
Someone in the gallery gasped.
Hale sat back down.
The judge did not move.
I continued.
“In nine of those cases, the petitions alleging incapacity contained photographs of unexplained injuries.”
Daniel’s head turned toward Vanessa.
Her lips parted.
“No.”
“In six cases,” I said, “the family member requesting guardianship was represented by Curtis Hale.”
Judge Mercer stared at the attorney.
Hale whispered, “This is absurd.”
“And in four cases,” I continued, “the presiding judge signed emergency property orders within forty-eight hours.”
Mercer’s voice was barely audible.
“Which judge?”
I looked directly at him.
“You.”
The courtroom erupted.
Judge Mercer struck the bench.
“Order!”
Voices rose.
The clerk stood.
The bailiff stepped toward us.
Daniel backed away from Vanessa.
Hale began shouting that the proceeding had become improper.
But I was no longer looking at them.
I was looking at Judge Mercer.
Because I expected anger.
Outrage.
A demand for proof.
Instead, for one fraction of a second, I saw fear.
Pure fear.
Then it disappeared.
Judge Adrian Mercer regained control of his expression.
“Mrs.
Vance, you are making an extremely serious allegation.”
“No,” I said.
“I am making an observation.”
He stared at me.
“Do you have evidence connecting me personally to any criminal conduct?”
“Not yet.”
Vanessa suddenly laughed.
It was a small sound.
Broken.
Everyone turned toward her.
She covered her face.
Daniel whispered, “What is wrong with you?”
Vanessa lowered her hands.
Tears filled her eyes.
But she was smiling.
“You idiot,” she said to Daniel.
His face tightened.
“What?”
“You absolute idiot.”
“Vanessa.”
“You were never supposed to file this case here.”
Hale stood so quickly his chair fell backward.
“Do not say another word.”
Vanessa looked at him.
Then at Judge Mercer.
Then at me.
And suddenly I understood something else.
She was not frightened of Daniel.
She was frightened of Hale.
And she was terrified of the judge.
The bailiff stepped closer.
Judge Mercer said, “Mrs.
Vance—Vanessa Vance—you are advised not to make statements without counsel.”
She laughed again.
