Chapter 12 - The Midnight Retainer
Arthur Finch was seventy years old, with silver hair combed back with meticulous precision and eyes that had watched forty years of domestic ruins without blinking once. He wore an overcoat that cost more than my car, and his leather briefcase hung loosely from his right hand.
"You're awake, Emma. Good," Finch said, his voice as smooth and dry as aged parchment. He didn't step forward, respecting the physical boundary with the cold etiquette of an executioner. "I assumed Daniel would fail to make you see reason. He lacks his father’s stomach for reality."
"You're trespassing, Arthur," I said, keeping my fingers wrapped tightly around the brass doorknob. "My building has a locked front entrance."
"Your superintendent has a daughter who needed an internship at our downtown partner firm next summer," Finch answered without missing a beat. "Doors open when mutual benefits exist. May I come in, or would you prefer we discuss your father’s impending insolvency in the hallway?"
A cold wire of fury pulled tight behind my ribs. "My father doesn't owe Richard Walker a dime. That lien is fraudulent, the notary was forged, and within nine hours, the county prosecutor will have the digital metadata proving your firm manufactured the entire instrument."
Finch’s expression didn't flicker. He didn't scoff, and he didn't bluster. Instead, he simply rested both hands on the silver handle of his cane and tilted his head.
"You're referring to the affidavit young Mia Lin just signed forty minutes ago," Finch said calmly.
The air vanished from my lungs. My grip on the door handle turned white-knuckled.
"Mia is a bright girl," Finch continued, taking the sealed envelope from under his arm and holding it out toward me. "A very emotional girl. Unfortunately for her—and for you—she signed an employment amendment fourteen months ago that assigns all proprietary administrative actions, including her remote digital notary credentials, to a blind corporate trust managed directly by Walker & Associates. In plain English, Emma: any document Mia notarizes or certifies without Richard's counter-signature is contractually invalid and constitutes corporate espionage."
"You can't contract away a criminal disclosure," I shot back, though my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Whistleblower protections supersede non-disclosure agreements. Any first-year law student knows that."
"They do," Finch conceded, his voice dropping into something resembling pity. "Unless the whistleblower herself was the one who submitted the original falsified paperwork to the registry."
He took one measured step forward and laid the thick envelope on the small mail shelf beside my door.
"Look inside, Emma. Before you go down to the courthouse at eight in the morning and burn down Daniel’s family, make sure you know who actually set the fire."
May you like
Finch tipped his hat, turned on his heel, and walked down the creaking hallway, his cane tapping rhythmically against the worn floorboards until the heavy stairwell door clicked shut behind him.
***
