Chapter 9

The trust meeting was held in the Bellrose Hall library on September 30. Rain had returned, soft and steady on the windows. The long table was crowded: Cece and her two lawyers, Paul, Renee, Marianne, Gus’s lawyer, the family accountant, Cousin Marian, and a court reporter. Gus sat at the head of the table in a wheelchair, pale but alert. Cece had tried to keep him upstairs. Sadie had refused.

“This is a family matter,” Cece said. “I don’t see why we need a court reporter.”

“Because you filed a motion to ratify a fraudulent land sale,” Marianne said. “We’re making a record.”

Cece’s lawyer objected. The trust’s attorney, a neutral man named Mr. Hebert, held up a hand. “Given the allegations, I’ve advised Mrs. Vandermeer to allow the record. Proceed, Mrs. Vandermeer.”

Renee stood. Her hands were steady. She had rehearsed this a hundred times.

“On September 14, at Founder’s Day, my daughter Junie fell and dropped a recorder that belonged to Cece. On that recorder is a conversation in which Cece admits to selling the west grove to Blue Heron Holdings and calls my ten-year-old daughter a loose end she plans to handle.”

Cece laughed. “This is absurd. The recorder is mine, yes. I use it for grocery lists and trust notes. You stole it.”

“Paul picked it up to keep you from grabbing it off a bleeding child,” Renee said. “And we made a copy before you could erase it.”

She played the recording. Cece’s voice filled the library. Blue Heron. The west grove. The thirtieth. The girl sees things. She’s the only loose end, and I’ll handle her before Gus can interfere.

When it ended, Cece’s lawyer was already talking. “Unverified. Potentially altered. My client’s voice can be easily imitated.”

Marianne slid the deed across the table. “Then explain this. Dated August second. Augustus Vandermeer’s signature. Paul Vandermeer as witness. Recorded in Delta Parish.”

Cece didn’t look at it. “Gus signed it. Paul witnessed it. There’s no crime in selling land.”

Renee put the brass tag on the table. “BH-7. My daughter found it in the west grove on August eighteenth, near blue-and-white survey stakes. Blue Heron’s surveyors were there before the deed was recorded. They were staking land your husband didn’t agree to sell.”

“A child’s trinket.”

“Elias Boudreaux is outside,” Marianne said. “He’ll testify that you paid him to lie about witnessing Gus sign the deed.”

Cece’s smile flickered.

Renee took out the bank records. “And these show that on September 5, you opened an account in Paul’s name and deposited a seventy-five-thousand-dollar cashier’s check from Blue Heron. You signed his name. You framed your own son to make him look like a bribe-taker.”

Paul stood. His voice was low. “I signed the deed as a witness. I was drunk. She brought me papers and told me they were loan extensions. I didn’t read them. I’m not proud of it, but I’m telling the truth. She used me.”

Cece’s face went white. “You ungrateful boy.”

“Enough.” Gus’s voice cut through the room. He gripped the arms of his wheelchair and pushed himself upright. “I signed a trust amendment on September twelfth. It revokes Cece’s power of attorney and removes her as chair. I was competent when I signed it, and my lawyer is here to say so.”

Cece turned on him. “You’re confused. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying.” Gus looked at Mr. Hebert. “Read it.”

The trust attorney read the amendment aloud. When he finished, he looked at Cece. “Mrs. Vandermeer, you are removed as chair and as power of attorney. The motion to ratify the Blue Heron sale is denied. The deed is void pending investigation.”

Cece stood so fast her chair tipped. “You can’t do this. I built this family.”

“You broke it,” Gus said.

Cece lunged for the recorder on the table. Paul stepped in front of her. She hit his chest with both hands, once, twice. He caught her wrists and held them. For a moment, mother and son stood frozen, her breath ragged, his face wet.

“Let go of me,” she whispered.

“No,” Paul said.

Security came. Cece was escorted out of the library. At the door, she looked back at Junie, who had crept in with Sadie and stood watching from the corner. The old woman’s face twisted.

“You,” Cece said.

Junie didn’t flinch. “I’m not a loose end.”

The door closed. The room was silent except for rain.

Gus sat back down, exhausted. He looked at Renee. “The sale is void. But the damage isn’t.”

Renee nodded. She looked at Paul, still standing where his mother had left him. He had stopped her. But he had also signed the deed. The truth had saved them and marked them both.