Chapter 32 - The Proxy's Ambush
Nathan’s office in uptown Charlotte remained our fortress of legal strategy. An hour later, Tom and I sat across the polished mahogany desk, looking at the high-end assisted living brochure spread between us.
"The handwriting matches Evelyn's prior correspondence," Nathan confirmed, comparing the penciled script against the letter she had sent from federal prison eight months earlier. "The slant, the erratic pressure on the capital letters—it’s her. But Evelyn doesn't own a car, her driver's license was suspended during the criminal bankruptcy, and her physical condition precludes her from driving eighty miles alone. She has a proxy."
"Who would carry her water now?" I asked, frustration creeping into my voice. "Brenda signed that court retraction and paid your fees. Uncle David threatened to cut Brenda off if she ever involved herself in Evelyn’s schemes again. Tyler is thriving in Atlanta, and Krista would sooner jump into traffic than speak to her."
"A desperate narcissist will always find someone whose goodwill they can manipulate," Tom said, pulling out his county department notepad. "I ran the partial plate from your Ring footage this morning. It’s registered to an older gentleman named Arthur Pendelton, seventy-one years old, residing in a mobile home park just outside Spartanburg."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Arthur Pendelton... wait. Let me pull the transitional housing roster from the Spartanburg administration." Nathan clicked rapidly through his database. Within two minutes, an intake report popped up. "Arthur Pendelton is Evelyn’s current neighbor in the subsidized apartment complex. A retired church deacon, recently widowed, with a modest pension and clean record. She’s found herself a new crusader."
The sickening realization washed over me. Evelyn had latched onto a grieving, lonely widower, poisoning his ear with tragic tales of how her ungrateful, wealthy daughter stole her inheritance and left her to wither in public housing while living in suburban luxury. She had weaponized his faith and chivalry to turn him into her personal chauffeur and intimidator.
Before we could finalize our enforcement petition, my cellphone chimed with a frantic FaceTime call from Krista.
I hit accept. Krista’s face filled the screen, pale and visibly distressed, with Pete standing behind her in his mechanic coveralls, his fists clenched tight.
"Jo! Are you home?" Krista asked breathlessly.
"I’m at Nathan’s office with Tom. What happened, Krista?"
"There’s an old man standing in the parking lot outside Pete’s diesel shop in Concord!" Krista exclaimed, her voice shaking with righteous fury. "He drove up in a beat-up blue sedan, walked right into the front office, and started screaming at the receptionist! He threw a folder of medical bills on the counter, claiming Pete and I were living off blood money while our sick mother starved in a slum!"
Pete leaned down toward the camera, his voice shaking with anger. "The guy caused a huge scene in front of three fleet clients, Jo. He called Krista a Jezebel and said God was going to strike down our business for throwing Evelyn to the wolves. I told him to get off my property before I called the county sheriff, and he yelled that we hadn't seen the last of him. He said Evelyn deserved a suite in Charlotte and that we were going to pay for it!"
"Pete, did you get the license plate?" Tom asked immediately, leaning in.
"Damn right I did. South Carolina tags. W-R-J-4-9-2. Exactly what you told me to look out for."
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"That's Arthur Pendelton," Tom said coldly. "He just committed third-degree criminal trespass, disorderly conduct, and commercial intimidation."
Nathan snapped his legal pad shut. "This is no longer an ambiguous boundary issue. Evelyn is directing a third party to harass and extort her victims. Arthur Pendelton thinks he's fighting a holy crusade for a suffering saint. It’s time to show him the actual monster he’s defending."
