Chapter 3 - The Lawyer My Husband Never Chose|
In my first life, Colin selected my attorney.
His name was Harold Brent.
He smiled reassuringly, charged enormous fees, and somehow managed to lose every argument that mattered.
I discovered too late that Harold had represented Mercer Financial on several occasions.
This time, I wasn't going to let my husband choose the person responsible for saving me.
At eleven that morning, I drove across Chicago to a modest law office above a bookstore.
The brass plaque outside read:
NADINE BROOKS — CIVIL LITIGATION & FINANCIAL FRAUD.
Nadine was forty-four, with dark curly hair, intelligent brown eyes, and the exhausted expression of a woman who had heard too many rich people lie.
She studied me across her desk.
“Mrs. Mercer, what brings you here?”
“My husband is planning to frame me for theft.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“That's a serious allegation.”
“I know.”
“Do you have evidence?”
I placed my phone on the desk.
The photographs.
The group chat.
The message confirming Tessa had the necklace.
Nadine examined everything.
“This establishes that your husband presented the necklace as a gift and that you permitted Ms. Lane to possess it.”
“Yes.”
“But it doesn't prove the necklace was stolen or that anyone intends to frame you.”
“I understand.”
She looked at me carefully.
“Then why do you believe that?”
I couldn't tell her the whole truth.
How could I explain that I had already died in a prison hospital?
That I remembered hearings which hadn't happened yet?
That my husband's tears had become one of my worst nightmares?
Instead, I told her something she could investigate.
“I work part-time scanning documents at Mercer Financial. I've noticed irregularities involving collateral records.”
Nadine leaned forward.
“What kind?”
“Files being replaced. Signatures appearing on documents I don't remember signing.”
“Do you have access to those records?”
“Some of my own employment forms and assigned document logs.”
“Then preserve anything you're legally entitled to keep. Don't take confidential material without authorization.”
I nodded.
“And don't confront your husband with accusations you can't support yet,” she continued.
“Why?”
“Because people who manipulate records usually become more dangerous when they know they're being watched.”
My stomach tightened.
She gave me a secure way to submit evidence.
Then she asked:
“Who owns the necklace?”
“Marlene Shaw.”
Nadine stopped writing.
“Roland Shaw's wife?”
“Yes.”
She sat back.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
Nadine hesitated.
“Two months ago, a former Mercer Financial employee approached my office with concerns about missing collateral.”
My heart began pounding.
“What happened?”
“He disappeared before our second meeting.”
“Do you know his name?”
She looked directly at me.
“Owen Pierce.”
I remembered that name.
In my first life, a prosecution witness had described Owen as a disgruntled employee who left the company after being caught stealing.
But Nadine was telling a different story.
“He believed someone was moving pledged assets without authorization,” she said.
“Did he leave anything?”
Nadine opened a locked drawer.
“He left one photograph.”
She slid it toward me.
It showed the emerald necklace.
May you like
And standing beside the vault was my husband.
Colin Mercer.
