Benjamin finally spoke, his voice flat and hollow. “How long have you been planning this? The marriage, the setup, all of it?”
Amanda lifted her head sharply. “I didn’t plan this, Benjamin. I swear. You have to believe me.”
“Your brothers showed up here at one in the morning demanding money,” he said, cutting her off. “They knew about Grandpa, about the ranch, about the inheritance. You told them everything.”
“I told my family I was dating someone,” Amanda cried. “That’s all. Shane asked questions. He looked you up himself.”
“You married me for money.”
“I married you because I loved you!”
Scott raised his hand. “Enough. Amanda, tell us everything. From the beginning.”
Amanda took a trembling breath. “I met Benjamin at a conference in Seattle—real estate and finance. I didn’t know who he was. We dated. I fell in love. It was real. When I told my family, Shane asked about his last name. He said, ‘Morrison? No, Fletcher. Isn’t that the ranch in Montana?’ He searched online, found articles, photos, property values, millions. Shane said, ‘This is perfect. You marry him. He inherits. Everyone wins.'”
Benjamin stood abruptly. “And you agreed?”
“I was 25!” Amanda shouted back. “I’d been trying to escape my brothers my entire life. They paid for my school by loaning me money. $40,000. They said if I married you, they’d forgive it.”
“That’s extortion,” Scott said quietly.
“I didn’t see it then,” Amanda sobbed. “I thought if I loved him anyway, and it helped my family too, what was the harm?” She turned to Benjamin. “Then you started gambling. You were stressed. Online poker. It spiraled. I panicked. I went to Shane. He said he’d help. The interest kept growing. You kept losing. Shane kept saying, ‘When Arthur dies, Benjamin inherits. We get paid.'”
Benjamin walked to the window, staring into the darkness. “Three years of lies.”
“I was scared,” Amanda said. “Shane threatened you. He said I caused this and had to finish it.”
“You watched me drown,” Benjamin said without turning.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“You were protecting yourself.”
Scott had been silent, thinking. “Amanda. How much do your brothers know about your finances?”
“Everything.”
“Because I looked into them,” Scott said, opening a folder. “Shane and Chase Monroe. Illegal gambling across multiple states. Loan sharking. Money laundering. They’re under federal investigation.”
Benjamin turned. “What?”
“Their lending business isn’t licensed anywhere,” Scott continued. “Their interest rates are criminal. The contracts are worthless.”
Amanda’s face went white. “How do you know?”
“I called a lawyer friend in Seattle. The FBI has been building a case for two years.”
Benjamin whispered, “So the debt?”
“Illegal. Void.”
“Then why aren’t they arrested?” Amanda asked.
“They need an insider,” Scott said. “Someone who understands the operation. Someone who can provide proof.” He looked at her. “Someone like you.”
“They’ll kill me,” Amanda said.
“Or the FBI puts you in witness protection,” Scott replied. “You, Benjamin, and the baby.”
Benjamin snapped his head around. “Baby?”
Amanda placed a hand on her stomach. “I’m nine weeks pregnant.”
The silence was complete.
Scott continued calmly, “Or you stay silent, and your brothers keep terrorizing you until someone gets hurt.”
“They’re my family,” Amanda whispered.
“They’re criminals who’ve exploited you since childhood,” Scott said. “That isn’t family.”
What followed took seven days. Amanda called the FBI the next morning. Agent Karen Wright flew to Montana that afternoon and sat with Amanda for six hours at Arthur’s kitchen table while Benjamin and Scott waited.
Amanda gave everything. Text messages, payment records, bank accounts, names of other victims, and recordings. Dozens of phone calls she had secretly taped after Shane threatened to break Benjamin’s hands.
Three days later, Shane and Chase were arrested. The charges were overwhelming: RICO violations, illegal gambling across five states, laundering $2.3 million, witness intimidation, and loan sharking involving 47 victims.
Agent Wright called Scott on the fourth day. “They’re in federal custody, facing 8 to 15 years.”
“And Benjamin’s debt?” Scott asked.
“Void. Illegal from the start.”
“And Amanda?”
“No charges. She’s a victim.”
Benjamin spoke to Amanda days later on Arthur’s porch at sunset. “Why testify against your brothers?”
“They stopped being my family when they threatened you,” Amanda said.
“And our daughter?”
“Daughter.” The ultrasound confirmed it.
Benjamin sat silently absorbing betrayal, truth, and fatherhood at once. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
“I’m not asking for that yet,” Amanda said. “Just a chance to earn it.”
Benjamin looked at Scott. “What do I do?”
Scott remembered Arthur’s words. Forgiveness must be earned.
“She’s trying,” Scott said. “The question is whether you’ll let her.”
Benjamin studied Amanda. The woman he loved. The woman who lied. Both real.
“Okay,” he said. “You can try. I need time.”
“I’ll wait,” Amanda said.
They were broken. But together. And as dawn crept through Arthur’s windows, it felt like a beginning.
A week later, Philip called with different news. Philip Garrett’s voice came through the phone, tight with frustration.
“Scott, I need you to sit down for this.”
Scott was at the ranch repairing the north fence, the same one Arthur had written about in his journal. He set his hammer down. “What happened?”
“Benjamin hired a new lawyer, Allison Drake from Seattle. Sharp, expensive, and she just filed a notice of appeal.”
Scott froze. “Appeal? The case is closed. Judge Merrick ruled the will valid.”
“They’re claiming new evidence. Alleged oral promises Arthur made to Benjamin. They have a witness.”
Scott drove straight to Billings and met Philip at his office. Philip slid the filing across the desk. The claim argued that in 2018, Arthur verbally promised the ranch to Benjamin. The witness was listed as Lester Wade, a former ranch hand. The filing cited Montana precedent, allowing oral promises to challenge a written will if proven.
Scott recognized the name immediately. “Arthur fired Lester in 2018 for stealing diesel fuel.”
“I know,” Philip said. “But we still have to answer. The hearing is tomorrow morning.”
Park County Courthouse was packed again. Judge Merrick entered, clearly irritated.
“Why are we here again?”
Allison Drake stood. She was polished, confident, and calm. “Your Honor, new evidence has emerged regarding the true intentions of the deceased.”
“It had better be compelling,” the judge said. “I don’t enjoy relitigating settled matters.”
Allison called her witness. “The petitioner calls Lester Wade.”
Lester took the stand: mid-fifties, weathered, visibly nervous.
“I worked at Fletcher Ranch from May to September 2018.”
“Did you ever hear Arthur Fletcher discuss estate plans with his grandson, Benjamin?” Allison asked.
“Yes,” Lester said. “Summer of 2018. I was in the horse barn. Arthur told Benjamin, ‘This ranch will be yours. I’m building it for family. You’re my family.'”
A murmur rippled through the gallery.
“You’re certain?” Allison asked.
“Clear as day.”
Philip rose for cross-examination. “Mr. Wade, when were you terminated from Fletcher Ranch?”
“September 2018.”
“And why?”
“There was a misunderstanding.”
Philip produced documents. “You were fired for stealing 200 gallons of diesel fuel and selling it to a trucking company. Charges were filed. They were later dropped after restitution and a plea agreement barring you from agricultural employment. Correct?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re testifying against the man who showed you mercy on behalf of the grandson. Interesting.”
Lester shifted.
“When did Benjamin contact you?”
“Last week.”
“What did he offer you?”
Allison objected. “Speculation.”
“I’ll allow it,” Judge Merrick said.
“He said I’d get $5,000 if the will was overturned.”
The courtroom erupted. Judge Merrick leaned forward. “You were promised money to testify?”
“Only if he won.”
“That is witness tampering,” the judge said sharply. “Ms. Drake?”
Allison looked stunned. “Your Honor, I had no knowledge of any payment.”
“I believe you,” the judge replied. “But this witness is completely impeached. Proceed.”
Allison regrouped. “We call our second witness. Amanda Fletcher.”
The judge sighed. “Very well.”
Amanda took the stand, visibly shaken, tears already forming.
“Mrs. Fletcher, were you present at your wedding in December 2015?”
“Yes.”
“Was Arthur Fletcher there?”
“Yes.”
“Did you observe Arthur having a private conversation with Benjamin?”
“Yes. In the garden area. It was emotional. Benjamin told me afterward that Arthur promised him the ranch as his legacy.”
Benjamin stared at the floor. Scott understood immediately. Benjamin had coached her. This was perjury.
Philip approached slowly. “Mrs. Fletcher, you said this occurred near a garden?”
“Yes, near a stable-style building.”
“The wedding was held at the Riverside Hotel in downtown Seattle,” Philip said. “There was no stable.”
Amanda faltered. “I meant the garden.”
“And you said they walked together?”
“Yes.”
“My father was in a wheelchair that entire year,” Scott said, standing. “Severe arthritis. He could not walk.”
Philip displayed wedding photos. Arthur sat in a wheelchair at his table in every image, Scott beside him the entire night. Arthur never moved.
Judge Merrick’s expression darkened. “Mrs. Fletcher, did you just lie under oath?”
Amanda broke down. “I didn’t want to! Benjamin told me what to say. He wrote it down. I was scared.”
Benjamin stood abruptly. “This is my fault. I told her to do it.”
“You suborned perjury,” the judge said. “Do you understand that’s a felony?”
“Yes.”
“And Mr. Wade accepted money for false testimony,” the judge continued. “Both of you face serious consequences.”
Allison spoke quickly. “Your Honor, I had no knowledge.”
“I believe you,” the judge said. “Your reputation stands. Your client’s does not. I am referring this matter for prosecution,” he continued. “Perjury, witness tampering, fraud upon the court.”
Amanda cried. “Please, I’m eight months pregnant.”
The judge paused, studying her, then Benjamin. “Mr. Fletcher, anything to say?”
“It’s all on me,” Benjamin said. “They didn’t want to lie. I pressured them. If anyone should be punished, it’s me.”
Judge Merrick turned to Scott. “You’re the injured party. What would your father say?”
Scott remembered Arthur’s journal. He’d say family is worth fighting for, even when they fail.
“You’re asking for leniency.”
“I’m asking you to give my son the chance my father gave me.”
The courtroom was silent. Judge Merrick leaned back.
“I do not tolerate perjury. But I recognize desperation when I see it. I will not refer this matter for criminal charges.”
Amanda collapsed in relief.
“But consequences remain. 200 hours of community service each. Permanent prohibition from contesting this estate again. One more filing and I will prosecute. The estate is confirmed. Closed. Scott Fletcher is the sole heir.”
He struck the gavel. “Court adjourned.”
Outside, Benjamin faced Scott, eyes red. “I’m sorry, Dad. For everything.”
“I know.”
“Can you forgive me?”
Scott studied his son. “Not today. Ask me again in a year.”
Benjamin nodded. The legal battle was over. The harder work had just begun.