Chapter 5 - The Quarter-Million Dollar ChristmasSomeone had been paying her family to keep her quiet
Naomi did not sleep.
At 2:17 in the morning, she was still at the kitchen table.
The spreadsheet remained open.
The payment was undeniable.
$250,000.
Lauren Bell.
Christmas Eve.
Naomi zoomed in until the characters blurred.
The sender was an investment entity she didn't recognize.
Palisade Strategic Holdings.
Nina searched the company.
At 2:38, she called.
“It's real.”
“Who owns it?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Find out.”
“I already have three people looking.”
“Good.”
“Naomi, don't confront Lauren.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“You're thinking about it.”
“Yes.”
“Don't.”
Naomi leaned back.
She was exhausted.
But one thing kept bothering her.
The amount.
Why pay Lauren?
Why now?
And for what?
At 7:15, Naomi made toast.
At 7:22, another email arrived from Meridian's legal team.
Urgent clarification requested regarding third-party historical interests.
Naomi opened it.
They wanted a meeting at noon.
She accepted.
At 9:04, Scott texted.
Can I come over?
Naomi stared at the message.
Then replied.
No.
Scott responded almost instantly.
Mom, please.
She did not answer.
At 9:17, he called.
She let it ring.
At 9:19, again.
Again.
Again.
Finally, she answered.
“What?”
“I made a mistake.”
Naomi said nothing.
Scott inhaled.
“I shouldn't have said what I said.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Why?”
“Because Lauren was upset.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“I thought I was protecting my family.”
Naomi looked at the spreadsheet.
“You are.”
Scott hesitated.
“Mom…”
“Did Arthur give Lauren money?”
Silence.
Naomi knew.
“You didn't say yes.”
“I don't know.”
“Did you know he was involved with Northstar?”
Another silence.
“Scott.”
“Yes.”
The word came quietly.
Naomi closed her eyes.
“How long?”
“Months.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Dad's old partners started asking questions.”
“About Richard?”
“Yes.”
“And you were scared.”
“Yes.”
“You weren't scared for me.”
“I was scared of what would happen to everyone.”
Naomi laughed bitterly.
“So you decided removing me from Christmas would solve it.”
“I was trying to keep Lauren calm.”
“No, Scott. You were trying to keep yourself comfortable.”
There was a long silence.
Then he said, “There's something you don't know.”
Naomi looked toward the window.
“What?”
“Dad's father left a trust.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Scott's voice changed.
“He left a second trust.”
Naomi sat upright.
“What?”
“It names you.”
Naomi felt her heartbeat in her throat.
“When was this created?”
“Before Grandpa died.”
“What's in it?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how do you know it exists?”
“Arthur told me.”
Naomi stared.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
She almost disconnected.
Then Scott said:
“He said the trust was created because your father knew you would eventually build something valuable.”
Naomi frowned.
“My father didn't know about Clear Path.”
“He may have known more than you think.”
The line went quiet.
Scott took a breath.
“Mom, there's an attorney in Seattle who handled the trust.”
“What attorney?”
“Jonathan Vale.”
Naomi knew the name.
Jonathan had handled her father's estate.
But he had retired.
Or so she thought.
“What does this have to do with the acquisition?”
Scott said nothing.
“Scott?”
“He contacted Arthur two days before Christmas.”
Naomi's stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“He asked him what he intended to do with the company after you sold.”
Naomi gripped the edge of the table.
“After I sold?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he assume I'm selling?”
“Because your father apparently left instructions.”
“What instructions?”
Scott whispered:
“He wanted your company protected from the family.”
Naomi's blood ran cold.
“What family?”
“You're asking the wrong question.”
“Then give me the right one.”
Scott's voice broke.
“The trust doesn't protect Clear Path from outsiders.”
A pause.
“It protects Clear Path from us.”
Naomi sat completely still.
Scott continued.
“And I think Arthur has been trying to get around it.”
At noon, Naomi met Meridian's lawyers.
Their conference room overlooked downtown Portland.
Three attorneys.
Mitchell.
Nina.
Naomi.
The lead attorney slid a folder across the table.
“We have identified the source of the historical claim.”
Naomi opened it.
“Richard Mercer did not hold ownership.”
She exhaled.
“Good.”
“But someone represented him.”
Naomi looked up.
“Who?”
The attorney pushed another page toward her.
“An attorney named Jonathan Vale.”
Naomi's blood turned cold.
“That's impossible.”
Mitchell frowned.
“Why?”
“Jonathan died four years ago.”
The attorney shook his head.
“No.”
“He's dead.”
“We confirmed he's alive.”
Naomi stared.
The attorney continued.
“And he's representing the person who revived Richard's claim.”
“Who?”
The room went silent.
Then he said:
“Your son.”
Scott.
Naomi slowly lowered the page.
“Scott filed the claim?”
“No.”
May you like
The attorney swallowed.
“Scott signed it.”
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