The deeper Frank dug, the uglier it got. He discovered that Marcus Bell had not just stolen my book and Sophie's memoir. He had built a whole system. Over six years, he had taken manuscripts from at least four of his own clients — writers who trusted him — and funneled them to Dana and two other ghostwriters, publishing them under pen names through Tidewater Ink and Harborlight Audio, splitting the money three ways. The writers were all people like me: older women, or young and broke, or too trusting to ask questions. Marcus picked victims who would not fight back. He picked wrong with me.
Frank also found the money trail. Tidewater Ink had received over $1.4 million in royalties in eighteen months — from my book alone, plus Sophie's memoir, which was still selling steadily. The money flowed from the publisher to Tidewater Ink, then to three accounts: Dana's, Marcus's, and a third account under the name of a company called Blue Heron Holdings. The owner of Blue Heron Holdings was someone I never expected: my own daughter's boss? No — worse. It was Helen Marsh, the owner of the bookstore chain where Claire worked? No, Frank corrected himself when he called me, his voice tight with excitement. Blue Heron Holdings belonged to Dana's husband, Richard Whitmore, the golf-playing husband in Florida. He was not an innocent bystander. He was the money man, the one who set up the shell companies and moved the cash.
That explained the fake review on Claire's bookstore page. That explained why Claire's manager had suddenly questioned her. Richard had business connections all over the Maine book world, and he was leaning on them, one by one, to isolate me and my daughter. Claire's manager, it turned out, had received a call from a distributor who hinted that the store's supply of bestselling titles might "face delays" if Claire kept "causing trouble." It was a threat, dressed up as business, and Claire's manager had caved just enough to scare her.
But Richard had made a mistake, too. In setting up Blue Heron Holdings, he had used his real home address and his real Social Security number on one of the formation documents — a document Frank obtained through a public records request. And on that same document, Richard had listed Dana as a co-owner, which meant Dana could not later claim she knew nothing about the money. The three of them — Dana, Marcus, and Richard — were tied together in black and white.
Meanwhile, my case was getting attention. A reporter from the Bangor Daily News called me and asked if I would tell my story. I said yes, on one condition: that Sophie's name be kept out of it until she was ready. The reporter agreed, and the article ran the next Sunday: "Bar Harbor Author Says Bestseller Was Stolen From Her Laptop." It was shared thousands of times. Other writers started contacting Daniel — writers who said the same thing had happened to them, writers who had manuscripts that suddenly appeared under other names. One of them, a woman from Vermont named Grace Ellery, sent Daniel her manuscript and a copy of a book that matched it almost exactly. The pattern was undeniable now. This was not a dispute between two friends. It was a business, and I was just the latest product.
The article made Dana furious. She posted another video, this time crying, claiming she was the victim of a "coordinated harassment campaign." But the comments were different this time. Mixed in with her fans' sympathy were questions: "Why does the book mention a dog named Biscuit?" "Didn't you say you'd never been to Bar Harbor before last year?" "Why is Nora Ellison listed as co-author on the copyright?" Dana deleted the video within hours. But screenshots live forever, and Daniel saved every one. The tide, for the first time, was turning in my favor. And then, just as I started to believe we might actually win, Claire called me with news that knocked the wind out of me: Dana had filed a lawsuit against me — for defamation, for $500,000 — claiming I was destroying her reputation and her livelihood with lies. She was suing the victim. And she had hired one of the most expensive law firms in Portland to do it.
