Chapter 1 - THE ENVELOPE THAT FELL FROM DIANE’S PURSE

Diane Carter slammed Ellie’s plastic plate onto the high-chair tray hard enough to send peas and mashed potatoes across my daughter’s pale pink dress.

Ellie screamed.

Not because the plate hurt her.

Because Diane had frightened her.

“Maybe now she’ll learn manners,” my mother-in-law said.

Ellie was two.

I lifted her out of the chair immediately.

“She’s two years old!”

Diane remained seated at my dining table as though I were the unreasonable one.

“She threw food.”

“She dropped a spoon.”

“She watches you excuse everything.”

Ellie buried her wet face against my shoulder.

Diane reached toward her.

I knocked her hand away.

“Never touch her again.”

That finally made Diane stand.

She grabbed the burgundy leather purse she had placed beside her chair.

The clasp caught.

The purse tipped.

A lipstick rolled under the table.

So did a sealed cream envelope.

Across the front:

CARTER FAMILY TRUST — DISTRIBUTION CONFIRMATION.

Diane moved faster than I had ever seen a sixty-two-year-old woman move.

“Give me that.”

I got there first.

Her face changed.

“Emily.”

I opened it.

The first page showed a transfer.

$480,000.

Beneficiary:

ELEANOR ROSE CARTER.

Ellie.

I stared at my two-year-old daughter.

Then at Diane’s signature.

“What is this?”

“It’s family business.”

“She’s two.”

“Exactly.”

That answer made no sense.

I turned the page.

A custodial brokerage account had been opened in Ellie’s name.

Diane Carter — Custodian.

Then another transfer.

Nearly the full amount had been used to purchase preferred membership units in Carter Ridge Holdings LLC.

The same company owned by Diane and my husband, Matthew.

I felt cold.

“You put company investments in Ellie’s name?”

Diane reached for the papers.

I stepped back.

“Give them to me.”

“No.”

“Emily, you don’t understand what you’re reading.”

“Then explain it.”

She said nothing.

I looked at the amount again.

$480,000.

Money belonging to my daughter.

Used to buy an interest in a company controlled by the adults standing to benefit from it.

“You used her name?”

For the first time since I had known Diane Carter, her arrogance disappeared.

Then she whispered:

“Do not call Matthew until I explain.”

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That frightened me more than the documents.

Because I had never told her I was going to call him.