Chapter 6 - THE MAN IN THE PARKED CAR
Lois wanted to call the police immediately. I wanted to sit down and pretend I hadn't seen the photographs.
We did the sensible thing. We photographed the envelope, kept the original in a clean bag, and called Priya. She told us to report the threat and avoid being alone until we knew who had delivered it.
I had spent seventy years making casseroles for people in trouble. It was a strange feeling to be the person somebody thought they could frighten into silence.
A patrol officer took our statement. He could not promise an arrest from anonymous photographs, but he logged the incident and gave us a report number.
“There's one thing you should know,” I told him. “I shoved a frame against my daughter-in-law after she broke it.”
He looked up. “Did anyone need medical care?”
“No. But it was wrong.”
“Tell the truth if you're asked,” he said. “It's usually less complicated that way.”
After he left, Lois opened her phone again. Her recording showed Jessica turning twice toward the cake table before the shove. At the edge of the image stood a man in a tan jacket, filming the moment without raising his eyes from the screen.
“Do you know him?” she asked.
“I saw him helping Jessica unload gift bags.”
We paused the video. His silver cuff links bore the initials GM. Priya identified him after a quick look: Grant Mercer, a consultant who helped Jessica finance her interior-design business. He'd also introduced the real estate agent.
“That's a conflict worth examining,” Priya said. “Not proof of fraud, but a reason to ask questions.”
By evening, Michael came to my door carrying roses from the grocery store. He used to bring me flowers after breaking a window with a baseball.
“Jess says you're suing us,” he said.
“I'm stopping someone from stealing my signature.”
“She says Grant can fix everything if you just cooperate.”
I showed him the envelope. His face drained.
“Mom,” he whispered, “Grant knows where you live because I gave him your address.”
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