Chapter 2
The document was not enough by itself to prove that Blythe owned fifty-eight percent of Briar Crest.
Rafferty’s attorney made that clear the next morning.
Grace Ellison was fifty-seven, silver-haired, patient, and almost offensively resistant to conclusions.
She placed the handwritten document inside an archival sleeve.
“This could be authentic.”
“It is Mom’s signature.”
“Probably.”
“Elise’s signature is real.”
“Probably.”
“Grace.”
She looked at him.
“You hired me because your mother has excellent lawyers.”
Fair.
Grace continued.
“An LLC membership transfer depends on the operating agreement, the underlying transaction, consent requirements, and whether this document reflects a completed event.”
Rafferty sat back.
“So we verify.”
“Yes.”
Blythe was in the adjoining room with a child therapist.
Not because Rafferty believed one ugly patio incident had destroyed her psychologically.
Because her words bothered him.
They’re stealing Mommy’s things.
Plural.
Grace had already asked:
“What else is missing?”
Rafferty had no answer.
That embarrassed him.
After Elise died, most of her jewelry remained in a locked room at Rafferty’s house.
Several sentimental items stayed with Blythe.
Honora repeatedly offered to “organize” the rest.
Rafferty refused.
Then life became busy.
Estate paperwork.
Work.
Grief.
School.
He stopped checking.
Grace pulled the original probate inventory.
Elise’s jewelry and personal effects were extensively documented.
She had not inherited Mercer pieces.
Most came from her own mother, gifts from Rafferty, or purchases she made herself.
The sapphire necklace Cecily wore at the party appeared in the inventory.
So did the silver necklace Blythe had been trying to recover.
Its monetary value was modest.
Its inscription was not.
On the back:
B.E.M. — always find your way home.
Elise had commissioned it for Blythe.
Grace looked at Rafferty.
“Cecily still have the sapphire necklace?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Before we left, she handed it to security after police arrived.”
“Good.”
Police had come because Cecily reported Rafferty’s shove through the gift box.
Rafferty gave a statement.
He did not claim self-defense.
Cecily had not been attacking him.
He had been angry.
That issue would proceed separately.
Grace respected that.
Then she turned back to the country club document.
Briar Crest had been founded by Rafferty’s grandfather in the 1960s.
The Mercer family had controlled it ever since.
At least Rafferty thought they had.
Honora served as chair.
Cecily chaired the social committee and sat on its holding-company board.
Rafferty had never been active.
He hated golf.
Elise hated golf more.
Which made the paper stranger.
“Why would Elise own the club?”
Grace asked.
Rafferty shook his head.
Then he remembered 2022.
The club had nearly failed.
Membership collapsed during renovations.
A lender refused to extend a balloon payment.
Honora needed emergency capital.
Rafferty was dealing with a major acquisition and declined to lend personally because the club’s finances looked terrible.
Elise had said something during dinner.
Your mother doesn’t need another son to rescue her. She needs a real balance sheet.
Rafferty had assumed she was being sarcastic.
“What did Elise own separately?” Grace asked.
“A stake in a healthcare software company from before we married.”
“Value?”
“She sold most of it around then.”
“How much?”
“Seven or eight million.”
Grace’s eyes sharpened.
“How much did Briar Crest need?”
Rafferty stopped.
“Six.”
Grace said nothing.
They ordered bank records.
Then Rafferty returned home and opened Elise’s estate room.
Three velvet cases were empty.
One watch case too.
A pearl bracelet was gone.
Two small leather jewelry rolls were missing entirely.
He called the estate custodian.
“When were these removed?”
The woman sounded confused.
“Mrs. Honora said they were family pieces.”
“When?”
“Over the last six months.”
“Who authorized that?”
A pause.
“She said you knew.”
Rafferty closed his eyes.
There it was again.
No forged court order.
No elaborate burglary.
Just a powerful relative saying:
May you like
Rafferty knows.
And people being too uncomfortable to verify.
