Heartless Legacy (Heartless Heirs of Canyon Falls #4)

38. Thea

Chapter 38

Thea

I ’ve been summoned to The Tomb for what Joshua is calling a special tribunal. The powers that be finished their investigation into my absence and are ready to make a decision regarding my future in Canyon Falls and The League. There will be zero tears shed if they decide to kick me out of both.

I listen as the person appointed as my advocate mumbles about my scores and grades. If I were voting on my fate, I’d say no, based on his less than enthusiastic defense. I huff out a breath, but force myself to remain silent, because a lot of those scores come with deductions based on what the person arguing against me calls my pathological need to question things.

From a dark corner of the room someone asks, “Prospect LaReaux, what is it you think you can offer to the league?”

“Right now? Nothing.”

They exchange some looks before the guy repeats, “Nothing at all? You’ll merely be dead weight?”

Is he serious? “I’m a broke college student. I don’t have connections and an inheritance I can offer up. Even if I did, how would that benefit any of you? Nothing in the challenges I’ve done required me to spend money or network. They had me solving puzzles, finding things. Stealing things. So I guess you can say I’d bring my mind, my ability to problem solve, and quick hands. But aren’t those qualities that all the other prospects are expected to have or acquire too?”

Someone else says, “You say you don’t have an inheritance?” He turns to Joshua. “Laurent, care to explain?”

What’s to explain? He’s got money. I don’t. “Well, you see, I-” Joshua swipes a hand across the back of his neck. “Considering the circumstances…”

The first guy who asked what I’m bringing to the table says, “Did you not issue your daughter her shares when she became of age?”

“Hailee was gone. There was no way to find her.”

“And what of your other daughter?”

Joshua looks at me, and I look at him right back, just as curious about his answer as everyone else. He replies, “She didn’t marry a legacy family, so I thought it-”

The first guy interrupts him. “You thought you’d retain the money earmarked for her inheritance. For both of their inheritances to punish them.” He scratches his chin. “I understand that.”

The tension in Joshua’s shoulders loosen, but then the man says, “What I don’t understand is why your granddaughter didn’t receive Hailee’s shares as soon as she arrived in town.”

Through gritted teeth, Joshua says, “She’s not Hailee’s daughter.”

“Ah. Yes. Biologically she’s not. But there was tons of paperwork presented that said she was. We didn’t learn of the deception until later.” The man waves his hand as if shooing a fly away. “Nevertheless, once we resolved things and reinstated you, why didn’t you release the funds?”

My brain is short circuiting. I know Moira and Scott have good jobs, but I assumed that in order for them to live where they do, there had to be some kind of trust fund supplementing their lifestyle. This man, in the corner, is saying it’s not.

Someone in the back speaks next. “Now I want to make sure I’ve got this straight. Moira never received a disbursement when she married?”

Joshua confirms, “She did not.”

“And your granddaughter hasn’t received a disbursement from Hailee’s account or the funds withheld from Moira, either?” My attention is momentarily drawn away from the front of the room as someone slips out of their chair and exits through a side door. When I turn back, I make the mistake of looking at Joshua. He’s glaring at me like this line of questioning is my fault. I don’t want his money. I’ve been adamant about that, and I didn’t know he was required by league law to give me any.

Pax said twenty-five percent of the company was the agreement with the league once I was married, but this sounds like some other type of compensation. Money I’m supposed to have access to now. Not just a family credit card like the one Scott gave me. It sounds like I’m supposed to have my own bank account and trust fund, just for being born.

Behind the anger on his face, Joshua looks uneasy. As if he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He has a right not to share his fortune. I understand and respect that, but this whole thing feels off… is it not his money they’re talking about?

That question gets answered before I’ve finished taking my next breath. The man who left returns to chambers with someone following behind him, holding what looks like one of those old-fashioned accounting ledgers in his hand.

“Clayton. We have a few questions. We are on record.”

“Understood.” The man looks at me. There’s a small tilt to his lips before his gaze swings to Joshua.

The first man is speaking again. “It’s been brought to our attention that the Montrose family funds held in trust on behalf of Hailee Laurent may not have been allocated according to her great-grandfather’s terms.” He gestures towards the book the man, Clayton, is holding. “Are those the archived documents?”

“They are.” He says, handing them to the man who’s been asking the questions.

The council member flips through several pages, then says, “You were appointed executor of the, but the terms are clear. The first ten percent of Hailee Laurent’s trust should have been disbursed at sixteen. Another ten percent at eighteen. Thirty percent at twenty-one, and the remaining amount once she reached twenty-five. In the event she was deceased or incapacitated, her trust would pass to any children she had or a relative of her choosing.”

He flips a few more pages and looks up at Joshua. “Hailee signed a document at age fifteen, indicating if she had no children, then her trust would go to Moira.”

Well, shit . My gaze swings back to Joshua. It’s one thing to withhold his money, but he’s holding on to someone else’s money. Mom definitely never touched that trust fund while we were in hiding. If she had, they would’ve found us years ago. Everyone assumed mom was dead, so that money should have gone to Moira fifteen years ago.

The book closes with a heavy thump. The council member in charge stares down at Joshua and says, “See that you rectify this accounting error immediately.”

After that, they return their attention to me, and the judgement portion of the trial begins. They tally my points and give me a massive point deduction for my absence, which puts me at the bottom of the scoreboard and far away from any chance I had at a meritorious promotion to second-year prospect.

I think about all the challenge items I collected, and how many more points I’ll lose if another prospect gets their hands on them. I don’t know if my stash is still in the same place. If it is, I’ll need to move it.

That spot is way too close to where I stabbed Michael. There’s no telling how many of the Skullz he was actually working with, or if Saint’s had a chance to weed out the traitors. If the items aren’t there, I’ll figure out a way to track them down and get them back.

The tribunal dismisses, and I wait until the dais is empty before leaving the room, ignoring the feeling of Joshua glaring at my back.

I’m approaching the exit to The Tomb when Malcolm steps out of a corridor to my right. I can see the disdain in his eyes. The snarl on his lips conveys exactly what he thinks of me and expects of me.

Standing here is jarring. Seeing him makes me want to take a step back and press my back against the wall, but I force myself not to run away or show any traces of discomfort. I can’t let him know that his mere presence has me on the verge of a panic attack.

The smile I force onto my face is definitely inappropriate for the position I find myself in. I’m not safe. Not here. Not with him, and I know there’s nothing stopping him from coming for me again.

“Is something funny, little girl?”

“Just happy to be back and ready to be of service, most honorable mid-level councilman Cox, sir.” I place extra emphasis on the mid-level part.

His eyes narrow at my very dishonorable tone. “How did you escape? Who helped you?”

His question catches me off guard. Does he really not know? Is he really clueless about his buddy double crossing him? Is he that convinced that he’s all powerful and in control? Well shit, I’m not gonna be the one to tell him.

Malcolm’s day of reckoning is coming, and in the meantime, I’m fine with sitting back and watching him second guess everyone and everything around him. Instead, I say, “My lawyer helped me. She got the charges dropped for lack of evidence, and the judge released me.”

His brows furrow as he ponders if what I’ve said is true. I see him mulling over the possibility that somehow I was transferred from Rockridge and sent back to jail. He’ll need to track down Lazarro and the psychotic doctor to get a different sequence of events. But since Lazarro is already working against him, I doubt he’ll confess that he kidnapped me from my kidnapper to sell me off to the highest bidder.

“Prospect LaReaux, I’m glad I caught you.” Someone says from behind me. The man’s steps are quiet as he appears at my side. He’s the one who was asking all the questions about Joshua’s, I mean Hailee’s, money. “I have a few documents for you to sign regarding today’s tribunal.” He walks past Malcolm and calls out, “Follow me.”

I don’t know this man and should probably take a few minutes to think about the dangers of walking off with a stranger, but I don’t. I’d rather take my chances with him than with Malcolm.

He leads me through the winding corridors and down the stairs to the archive room, then passed the counter, weaving through the stack of bookshelves. “I’m sorry I don’t recognize you, councilman…”

“Ryland, and I’m not on the council. I’m a prospect, just like you.” He glances over his shoulder and amends, “Not just like you. I’m a third-year prospect and a grad student.”

We come to a desk and he pulls out a chair, motioning for me to take a seat, before going over to a printer to retrieve a stack of papers. “This is the transcript of today’s tribunal. We’ll go over it together. Feel free to ask any questions you have before signing it.”

“How did you know about my mother’s trust fund?” I ask. “Is that something all third-year prospects get tested on?”

“No.” He chuckles. “That would be a violation of so many things. I know about it, because it’s a part of my family history. We all have trust funds, and our lawyers and accountants keep detailed notes about spending.”

“I’m not following what your family situation has to do with anything.”

“Hailee’s my cousin.”

My mouth gapes open and then closes. I shouldn’t be shocked. This is my new normal. This town just keeps giving me relatives I never asked for and I’m not so sure I want. I was only just getting used to Van and Joshua orbiting me. Then there was the bomb dropped in my lap that was Alexzander Moreau. But here we go again.

I glance down at the document he’s placed in front of me as I gather my thoughts. It lists the names of all the people in attendance today. There were two second-year prospects on the dais. “I didn’t know prospects had decision-making authority.”

“We don’t, but we can make suggestions to be routed to the high council. You’ve learned that during indoctrination, right?” I nod. “Well, what they don’t tell you is when things like a special tribunal are called, we sit on the jury too, just to make sure the panel has a diverse pool of opinions to consider.”

“Have you sat on many tribunals?”

“A few. I turn down more invitations than I accept.”

“Why?”

“Why am I invited? Because I help in the archives.”

“No, I mean, why do you turn them down? Or why didn’t you turn this one down?”

He laughs again. “My answer is the same. I work in the archives with my father, who is also our family’s estate attorney. He’s the one who noticed Hailee’s trust fund hadn’t been touched, so I agreed to sit on the tribunal so I could ask about it.”

“He just noticed?”

“No. He’s mentioned it several times over the years. We figured it wasn’t being touched because Hailee didn’t want her withdrawals traced back to her. But when you came to town, and…” He pauses, and another voice picks up where he left off.

Clayton, the man with the ledger, joins us and says, “When you came to town and told us Hailee disappeared, we thought Joshua would file the paperwork to declare her legally...” His voice trails off, too.

“Dead.” I supply without emotion.

“Yes. At which point the trust would have gone to Moira. The paperwork never came across my desk.” He gives me a kind smile and introduces himself. “Hello, Thea. I’m Clayton Montrose. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

I take in the older man, looking for traces of my mother in him. He’s her uncle, and he’s a league member. At least this relative isn’t pushy. In the whole time I’ve been in town, never once did he come to me and demand I get to know him. He simply left word that I could come see him when I was ready.

It doesn’t creep me out that he’s here, slinking in the shadows. Is he the senior male in Hailee’s mother’s family line, or is there someone else in charge? I don’t have the mental bandwidth to pose that question right now. Until I’m ready to ask, I can pretty much pretend he and Ryland don’t exist.

I take my time reading the tribunal documents before signing. Clayton stamps it with a funky-looking seal I assume is The League’s official notary stamp. “That’s all for today.” He says, slipping the documents into a pouch and adding them to a binder. “I’ll be in contact with you once Joshua relinquishes control of Hailee’s inheritance.”

“Why would you need to talk to me about that?” I ask.

Clayton gives me a small smile and disappears back into the stack of books without answering. Ryland says, “You’ll get used to him just walking off.” He starts towards the door. “Come on, little cousin. I’ll walk you out.”