Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN NAMED CELESTE
Celeste Marrow lived in Philadelphia.
At least, that was where the first wire went.
Poppy traced her through public records while I called Elaine Porter, the attorney who had handled three military family protection cases for me after retirement.
Elaine answered on speaker.
“What are we dealing with?”
“Domestic violence, financial exploitation, 529 liquidation, forged e-signatures, evidence manipulation, possible custody fraud, insurance setup.”
“Names?”
“Hannah Pearson. Gavin Pearson. Child Zoe. Princeton.”
A pause.
Then Elaine said, “That community will close ranks fast.”
“I know.”
“Good. Then we go higher and wider.”
By evening, Elaine had filed for emergency protective relief, preservation of financial records, temporary custody safeguards, and financial restraining orders.
Poppy continued digging.
At 8:10 p.m., he found Celeste.
Not a mistress.
Not exactly.
Former client.
Former wife of another Pearson Strategic Wealth customer.
Her husband had died in a boating accident two years earlier after changing a life insurance beneficiary under circumstances Celeste later challenged.
Gavin had advised the family.
The lawsuit settled under seal.
Celeste had received money from Northbridge Legacy Partners twice.
“What was she paid for?” Hannah asked.
Poppy’s face was dark.
“Maybe silence.”
I found her number through a veterans’ legal aid contact who owed me favors and disliked Gavin’s firm for unrelated reasons.
Celeste answered cautiously.
When I said Gavin Pearson’s name, she nearly hung up.
“I’m not allowed to talk about that.”
“Did he hurt your family?”
Silence.
Then a whisper.
“He made everyone think I was crazy.”
Hannah closed her eyes.
I put the phone on speaker.
Celeste told us enough.
Not everything.
Enough.
Her husband had begun acting strangely after Gavin convinced him she was financially reckless.
Gavin collected videos of arguments.
Encouraged her husband to keep recordings.
Edited them.
Built a legal file.
Moved assets.
When her husband died, Gavin controlled the paperwork.
Celeste fought.
Then settled because she had no money left and two children to feed.
“Do you still have proof?” I asked.
“I have one drive.”
“Do not send it casually. Preserve it. Elaine Porter will contact you.”
Celeste’s voice shook.
“Is he doing it again?”
I looked at Hannah.
“Yes.”
The next morning, Gavin filed his own petition.
Of course he did.
Emergency custody.
Claiming Hannah had abducted Zoe while intoxicated and under the influence of her “unstable mother.”
He attached edited audio from the hidden folder.
He claimed I was a former low-level quartermaster with untreated combat trauma.
That was his third mistake.
Never lie about a veteran’s service record when that veteran still has the general’s office Christmas card on her mantel.
Elaine read the petition and smiled.
Not kindly.
“He called you low-level?”
“I’m more offended by quartermaster.”
“You were logistics command, weren’t you?”
“Among other things.”
She looked over her glasses.
May you like
“Would you like to be among other things in court?”
“Yes.”
