Chapter 26 - The Trap at the Law Firm
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At 8:30 A.M. the following morning, I walked into the glass-walled executive conference room of Vance & Partners Law Firm on the forty-fifth floor of the downtown financial center.
I wore a tailored navy blazer, sharp white trousers, and dark leather pumps. Marcus Vance, my lead divorce attorney, sat at the head of the table, sipping black coffee. Beside him sat Julian Vance.
At 8:55 A.M., the heavy frosted-glass doors swung open.
Daniel walked in, looking like a ghost. He wore a rumpled grey suit, his eyes bloodshot, his hands trembling as he pulled out a chair. He was accompanied by his court-appointed public defender, Mr. Henderson.
A minute later, two uniformed police officers escorted Vivian Mercer into the room. She was wearing handcuffs over her wrists, having spent the night in a county jail cell for violating her probation order by stalking my penthouse building.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Vivian snarled the moment she saw me, her voice hoarse from screaming all night. "Emma, you have no right to hold me in custody! Tell these officers to release me immediately!"
"Sit down, Mrs. Mercer," Marcus Vance commanded in a deep, booming voice. "Or the officers will escort you straight back to the holding cell."
Vivian slammed herself into a leather chair, glaring at me with pure venom.
Daniel looked across the table at me, his eyes pleading. "Emma... please tell me you called off those loan people. They came to my apartment last night. They threatened to break my hands!"
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I didn't answer him. I simply opened my leather portfolio notepad and picked up my pen.
"We are here today," Julian Vance announced, standing up at the podium, "to read the final, unedited codicil of the late Arthur Mercer."
