The Next Wife Page 30
“Give me a few minutes, will you?” I say to Bob as we reach my office. “Read the supposed will. Come back in ten minutes.”
He backs away, likely grateful for a break, and I close my door and walk to my bookshelves. I grab a photo from my display on the bookshelf—John and Ashlyn at a father-daughter campout when she was six. It’s the only photo I’ve kept of John in my office because I wanted to remember this simpler time, at least I tell myself that’s why it’s here. The frame is wood, and the glass is thick. I stare at the image, trying to find a sign of his duplicity, a hint that everything would go so wrong. But I don’t. I walk across the room and put my hand on the window. The glass is smooth and cool under my palm.
There’s a knock on my door. “Come in.” I don’t turn to look at them. I know it’s Bob and Sandra.
Bob says, “I’m so sorry. Of course it’s a fake. The will doesn’t even mention Ashlyn. But until we have a chance to contest it in court, we may need to just go along with them. We’re a public company now, and we don’t want to tip off the investors that there is an internal battle over control of the company.”
I don’t turn around. I don’t want Bob and Sandra to see my expression when I’m not sure what is showing. “There is no battle. I’m contesting this immediately. Challenge it in court. It’s a fraud. Start the filing now.”
Sandra says, “Of course. We all know John wouldn’t do this. It must be fake.”
Exactly. I take a deep breath and turn around. “So, let me get this straight. I am supposed to believe that Tish owns half of EventCo now, we’re supposed to be co-presidents, and Ashlyn has been cut out. No.”
I don’t say anything else. Sandra leaves my office first, shaking her head. I will get rid of this upstart. Tish will not take any part of my company. Not now, not ever.
I will win.
“I’m serious, Bob. I want you to personally direct the entire law firm. Drop everything else. Tell them I’ll fight this as long and as hard as it takes. All hands on deck.”
He wipes his brow with the back of his hand. “I’m on it.”
“You’d better hurry. I’m worried about the value of our stock if word of this gets out to our investors, the employees, or the financial trades. It could be devastating. How did John let this happen? Her happen?” I walk behind my desk. The bookshelves behind me are dotted with photos, mostly of Ashlyn.
I study one from our last Christmas together as a family. My parents joined us in Telluride. The photo is of Ashlyn and me with my mom and dad, standing outside on the deck of our condominium. Snow covers our hair like confetti. John took the photo.
“I’ll fix this.” Bob is at the door.
“No, I’ll fix it. You get me the facts. Now.”
He nods and is out the door.
I try to imagine, for a moment, a staff meeting led by Tish and me. It would never happen. She doesn’t know the first thing about our business. I only tolerated John because he had institutional knowledge and capital connections. Aside from that, I run things around here.
Once his affair with Tish became known, John and I had maintained some semblance of unity at work, aside from the first few awkward months when John would invite Tish into the meetings. That was something I put a stop to by pointing out those meetings were only for executives. John and I had made it work. I had made it work, for the good of the company. I wasn’t happy about it, but I suffered through it.
But this, the two of us here in my offices, this will never work. I won’t allow it.
I grab my briefcase, walk to my couch, and open my laptop. I have a new plan.
I search the internet for the law offices of George Price and find it in Pineville, Kentucky. I call the number listed.
“Offices of George Price. If you have a problem with the law, with the man, with anybody, we can help,” the receptionist says. “Hello? This is Mary? How can I help?”
“Hello, Mary, my name is Mabel Johnson. I’m thinking of hiring Mr. Price for a legal case, but I need to be sure he doesn’t have a conflict of interest,” I say. I’m winging it, but I need to find out more about this creep. “Does he have a niece named Terry Jane or Tish?”
“Oh, he sure does, ma’am, is that who referred you? They’re so close, it’s sweet. I think he looks after her like a daddy,” Mary says.
“That’s so nice,” I say. There is nothing criminal about hiring your uncle to represent you, of course. My eyes glance at the signature page of the fake will. John’s name has been forged, obviously, but I look at the witness names. One of them is named Mary. Mary Loveless. My heart beats faster.
“Mr. Price is out of the office today. Could I leave him a message?” Mary asks.
“Is your last name Loveless, Mary?” I ask. “I have some kin down south with that last name.”
Mary takes a moment. “How do you know my last name?”
“Just a lucky guess,” I say. I look at the other witness signature: Sarah L. Byrne. “Say, do you know how I can reach Sarah Byrne?”
Silence. I think she hung up on me.
“Mary? Hello?” I hang up. She will be easy to find again if I need her. I look closely at the signature of the other witness. Mary acted so suspicious hanging up on me like that. For sure she knows Sarah.
I do a Google search and bingo. Sarah L. Byrne is on Facebook, and she lives in Pineville. Her sister, Mary, loves to babysit Sarah’s kids. How perfect. The Loveless sisters should be easy to deal with. George didn’t search very hard for witnesses for the will. One is his only employee, the other, her sister.
As I begin further research, there’s a knock on my door. It’s Ashlyn.
“Hey, I’m glad you stopped by. I’d feel better if you went home for the day. Turn on the alarm?”
“I’m fine, Mom. Stop worrying,” she says. “Did Dad have a new will like Tish said?”
“Supposedly. But look at this. This is not your dad’s signature. We’ve signed contracts together a million times. And these witnesses and the notary? Well, don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”
“I know you will,” she says. “I do have a lot to do, so I’ll head out. See you later.”
“See you at home, honey,” I say and turn back to my computer. I’m not leaving the office yet. I have things to do.
I call Lance, who answers on the first ring. “I cannot believe I gave her the key to John’s office. I’m an idiot. I thought she was here to retrieve some personal items, but she’s sitting behind John’s desk right now acting like she owns the place.”
“She is under the presumption that EventCo is half hers. It’s unbearable.”
“John was better than this. He wasn’t thinking right.” Lance was John’s best friend at work, maybe in life, since there wasn’t much time for anyone else once Tish arrived.
I take a deep breath. I have an idea, one that had been forming since John’s death but has become urgent now that Tish is squatting in John’s office. “I am going to buy more shares of EventCo. In the open market.”
“I understand why you’d want to, but no one entity can purchase five percent or more without triggering reporting,” Lance says. I can hear the worry in his voice. “It’s a good idea, Kate, if you can find a way to do it. Let me know if you need my help.”
I don’t need anyone’s help. “I have shell companies. I can handle the purchases through them. And under Ashlyn’s name. It’s totally legal, but I know it would look bad if it was revealed to investors.”
Lance exhales into the phone. “Got it. I know you don’t want an SEC investigation. That’s the last thing we need.”
I’m not stupid. Not when it comes to my money or my company. “The last thing we needed was Tish. But I hear you, I’ll be careful. What I need you to do is to keep an eye on the unhinged woman in the corner office.”
“I will. Sandra is, too. From my office I can see Sandra watching Tish like a hawk. She’s working from the atrium, a direct view into John’s office. That will drive Tish crazy.”
“If only that would scare her off.” If only. “Talk to you later. And let me know if the employees come to you. Tell anyone who asks this situation is temporary. And under no circumstances will anyone speak to the media.”
“Got it. On it.”
I work fast, buying a controlling share of my own company, just in case. At least I know it’s a great investment.
Two can play this game. I stand up and stretch, roll my head from side to side. Only one of us knows what she’s doing in the business world, and that’s me. With the stocks purchased, I focus on the fake will in front of me. The notary’s name is Angie Ball of Columbus, Ohio. Her office is just around the corner from EventCo. Perfect. As I walk past her desk, Nancy asks, “Where are you going? You shouldn’t leave with that one still here.”
“I’ll be right back. I just need some fresh air,” I say. “Call me if she tries anything. It looks like she’s just hiding out in John’s office.”
I will not be outplayed. Never. Game on, Tish.
CHAPTER 38
TISH