Linda Parker took off her glasses, wiped them on the hem of her sweater, and put them back on. “Have a seat,” she said. “Start from the beginning.” Marina told her.
Not everything. Just the essentials. The man was alive. There was a death certificate. The business was passing to the son. The certificate had to be overturned and the property restored. Linda listened without interrupting, then reached under the desk for a bottle of mineral water, poured herself a cup, and drank.
“A death certificate can be challenged in court,” she said, “but first you need an examination by a living, independent doctor. Not the one who signed the first certificate. That’s step one.”
“Step two: report it to the district attorney and the police as attempted murder. Step three: stop the estate transfer if the son has already moved on it. It can be done, but it takes time. Months.”
“Anything faster?” Marina asked. “Yes,” Linda said. “If your man shows up in person, alive, in front of witnesses, the whole setup falls apart in one day.” Marina came back and repeated it all to Gregory.
He sat on the mattress with Annie in his lap, the baby gripping his finger and refusing to let go. “In front of witnesses,” he repeated. “Good. I know when and where.” He stayed quiet for two more days, eating, sleeping, walking slow circles around the yard at night like a man pacing out a hard thought.
Marina didn’t ask. She knew people talked when they were ready. On the third evening Gregory sat down at the table. Marina was feeding Annie cereal from a bottle. A candle burned on the windowsill, shadows moving across the walls.
“Adam’s birthday is in two weeks,” Gregory said. “He always celebrates at the same restaurant. The Old Mill, down by the river. Thirty people, maybe forty. Partners, department heads, the accountant, everybody tied to the company.”
“And you want to walk in?” Marina asked. “Yes. Alive.” Marina set the bottle down and looked at him. “Does he have security?”
