Chapter 9 - MY MOTHER’S NAME
Mom had never taken clonazepam either.
At least that was what she said.
A prescription had been filled under Mom’s insurance seven months earlier by the same doctor named on my planted bottle.
Dr. Leonard Shaw.
Mom stared at the record.
“I’ve never met him.”
“Who had access to your insurance card?” Jensen asked.
“Margaret copied it last Christmas,” Mom said.
Last Christmas, Mom’s wallet vanished. Margaret “found” it under the guest-room dresser.
We had thanked her.
Jensen dug deeper.
Dr. Shaw worked at a clinic partly owned by Alan Price’s brother-in-law.
The fake prescription was infrastructure, built months before the custody filing.
“They planned this before Ryan ever said he wanted to separate,” Mom said.
“Did he ever say that?”
“No.”
Exactly.
They were preparing to create a breakup on their terms.
That evening, Emma asked why Daddy wasn’t home.
I said adults had made bad choices.
“Did Grandma make Daddy do it?” she asked.
I swallowed.
“What makes you ask that?”
“Daddy said Grandma always knows how to fix things.”
“Fix what?”
“Money.”
There it was again.
Emma climbed into my lap.
“He told Grandma he lost the Stowe money.”
I went still.
“When did he say Stowe?”
“At Grandma’s kitchen.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Grandma got mad. She said, ‘Then we need Lauren out before the review.’”
Review.
I called Emma’s trustee. A routine five-year audit had begun two weeks earlier.
Any unauthorized loans tied to the trust would likely be discovered.
Ryan and Margaret had a deadline.
The Friday staging made sense. If I looked unstable before the audit found Ryan’s borrowing, he could claim he was protecting Emma.
I asked the trustee one final question.
“Has anyone requested a change in control?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Your husband submitted preliminary documents naming himself sole emergency guardian.”
“When?”
May you like
The answer made my skin go cold.
“Six months ago.”
