“It nullifies any power of attorney you claimed to hold, and it immediately reverses the hold on Mrs. Hartwell-Pierce’s individual accounts,” she added.

Marjorie stepped toward the bed, her heavy pearls rattling against her collarbone.

“This is absurd,” Marjorie said, her face flushing a deep, angry red. “My son is the managing partner of Pierce Development. You cannot simply freeze his business accounts.”

“We can when those accounts are funded by grand larceny,” Clara said calmly. “And when the signature on the asset transfer is a verified forgery.”

Nolan looked at his mother, then back at the phone.

“Sloane, call the firm’s counsel,” Nolan ordered, his voice cracking.

“I can’t,” Sloane said through the speaker, her panic absolute. “There are federal marshals in our lobby right now, Nolan. They are serving a freeze order on the entire Oakridge project.”

The line went dead with a sharp beep.

Nolan let his hand fall to his side, the phone slipping from his fingers and landing on the linoleum floor.

It slid a few inches, the screen still glowing with a pale blue light.