Chapter 17 - The Bait
Two weeks passed without another letter, but the silence felt deliberate. Richard had filed a formal preservation of evidence notice with the district attorney's office, yet Evelyn had not submitted any civil claim to the Travis County clerk. She was fishing, waiting to see if fear would make me blink.
On the second Saturday of November, Colin drove up to Lake Travis early in the morning to drop Lucas off before his 12-hour terminal shift in San Marcos. Lucas was carrying his cross-country spikes and a canvas duffle bag, full of teenage energy.
"Grandma, coach says if I drop four seconds off my two-mile pace, I can make the varsity regional qualifiers next month," Lucas beamed, setting his sneakers on the porch mat.
"You'll drop five seconds if you eat Clara’s oatmeal and stop staying up reading engine manuals until midnight," I teased, kissing his forehead.
Colin lingered by the door, wearing his dark work coveralls. He had a tight, troubled look around his mouth that reminded me of the days before the crash.
"Mom, can I talk to you on the porch for a second?" Colin asked softly, glancing toward the kitchen where Clara was pouring orange juice for Lucas.
I followed him out into the morning fog. Colin stood by the cedar rail, staring at the lake.
"Someone called the terminal dispatch office yesterday," Colin said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "A woman. She wouldn't give her name, but she asked for my supervisor. She told him that I was under active investigation for grand larceny and child concealment, and that the federal court was preparing an asset freeze against any company employing me."
A cold spark flared in my ribs. "Evelyn."
"She’s trying to get me fired, Mom," Colin said, his hands shaking slightly as he gripped the railing. "My boss knows me. He knows Arthur’s name, and he trusts me. He threw the message slip in the shredder. But if she starts calling corporate in Chicago... rail companies don't like drama. They’d replace me with a relief manager before lunch just to avoid legal discovery."
"She is trying to cut your legs out from under you so you can't afford counsel, Colin," I said, putting my hand firmly on his arm. "She wants you broke, desperate, and pliable, just like you were two years ago."
"I’m not that man anymore, Mom," Colin said, looking me dead in the eye. His jaw was locked tight. "I’m not rolling over for that family again. If she wants a war, she can have one. But what if she goes after Lucas’s school?"
"She already tried," I answered quietly. "Dr. Albright retired, but the new administration in Fort Worth has strict instructions from Richard. Any contact from Evelyn or her associates triggers an immediate report to the sheriff’s desk."
Right on cue, Lucas walked out onto the porch holding an iPad. His expression was bewildered rather than frightened.
"Grandma? Look at this message request on Instagram."
Colin lunged forward, taking the tablet gently from his hands. On the screen was a message from an account created that morning under a blank avatar:
“Lucas, your grandmother stole your mother’s life. Ask your dad why he sold his own wife out for lottery money. Your real family is in Dallas. Meet your grandmother Evelyn at the Austin Continental Club this Friday at four. She has your mother’s diaries and the truth about your trust fund.”
Colin’s face flushed a deep, violent crimson. He raised his hand as if to smash the screen onto the cedar planks, but I caught his wrist.
"Colin. No."
Lucas took a step back, his eyes darting between us. "Dad... what is that? Why is Grandma Evelyn messaging me? She hasn't talked to me in two years."
"She isn't talking to you, sweetheart," I said, pulling Lucas into a gentle hug. "She’s talking to our money. She’s using your name because she knows it’s the only word left that can make your father’s heart race."
I turned to Colin. "Call Richard. Tell him Evelyn has made physical contact with a minor under protective jurisdiction. Tell him she gave us a time and an address."
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Colin stared at me, understanding dawning across his features. "You’re going to the meeting?"
"No," I replied, smoothing my apron. "We aren't going anywhere near that club. But the Travis County Sheriff's Department and two plainclothes detectives are going to have an exceptionally interesting Friday afternoon."
