Chapter 20: The Money Trail
Marcus Webb took the case for free.
"Don't insult me with a check," he told my father. "I put that woman in handcuffs once. I'd like to see the whole family finish the job."
It took him eleven days.
He sat at my kitchen table with a laptop and a stack of folders, and he laid it out for us like a man setting a table for a funeral.
"Hargrove Bell received a retainer of two hundred fifty thousand dollars," he said, "from an entity called the Southern Heritage Family Fund. Registered in Delaware eighteen months ago. Its only director is Renée Dupree."
He slid another page across.
"The fund received its money from a trust in the Cayman Islands. The Cayman trust was set up in 2019."
He looked at my father.
"Three months after you married Celeste."
My father stared at the paper.
"She was hiding money from me the whole time," he said quietly.
"About four million dollars of it," Marcus said. "Most of it transferred out of your joint accounts in small amounts over four years. Your accountants never caught it."
"Why would she spend it on this?" I asked. "She's in prison for twenty-five years. What does she get?"
Marcus pulled out one last document.
My father's trust.
The amended version. The one he'd signed after Simone's letters.
He tapped a single line with his pen.
To my granddaughter, ZURI GRACE CALLAHAN, the legally adopted daughter of my son, Ryan Callahan, fifty percent of the residual estate.
"The legally adopted daughter," Marcus said. "If the adoption gets voided, Zuri is no longer legally Ryan's daughter. Which means she's no longer legally Harold's granddaughter. Which means that clause collapses."
"And her half goes back—" I started.
"To the original beneficiaries under the prior trust," Marcus said. "You. And Tyler."
"Tyler changed his name," I said. "He doesn't want a cent from her."
"Doesn't matter what he wants. Legally, it would flow to him. And Celeste has a civil claim pending against Tyler for 'family support' that her lawyers filed from prison last year. If Tyler inherits, she goes after him."
My father put his face in his hands.
"There's more," Marcus said gently. "Celeste's criminal appeal is pending. Her lawyers are arguing that the attempted-murder charge should have been lowered because of 'family member caregiver' sentencing guidelines. Their brief argues she was acting as Zuri's step-grandmother."
"So?"
"So if a Georgia court rules that Zuri was never legally a Callahan," Marcus said, "Celeste's lawyers get to argue she was never really family at all. That it was a 'custodial accident involving a non-relative child.' It muddies everything. It gives her an angle."
I stood up so fast my chair fell over.
"She's using him," I said. "She's using Zuri's own father as a weapon. To take her from me. To take her inheritance. And to get herself out of prison."
"Yes," Marcus said.
"From a prison cell."
"With her sister's hands."
I walked to the window.
Zuri was in the backyard with Tyler, who had driven up from Key West for the weekend to help. He was teaching her to tie sailing knots on a length of rope tied to the porch rail. She was frowning in concentration.
"Bowline," I heard her say. "The rabbit comes out of the hole…"
Tyler laughed.
Celeste's son. The boy she'd done all of this for.
Teaching my daughter to tie knots.
My father came and stood beside me at the window.
"Darnell Price needs to know," he said. "Everything."
"He might not believe us."
"Then show him," my father said. "Show him the money. Show him the trial. Show him the girl."
May you like
He put his hand on my shoulder.
"That man was lied to by a Dupree woman. So was I. For six years." His voice was rough. "Somebody should've shown me the truth sooner. Maybe I wouldn't have wasted so much time."
