Chapter 7: The Brother Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
"That's my brother.""
My father's voice sounded unfamiliar.
I had never heard him speak with that much fear.
Daniel Harrison paused the recording.
"Michael, are you certain?""
Dad stared at the computer screen.
"His name was Thomas Carter. He was my older brother.""
I looked between them.
"But you always told me you were an only child.""
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Because, sweetheart, I believed he was dead.""
He sat down slowly.
Then he began telling me something he'd never shared before.
Thomas had been five years older than Dad. When they were young, their parents owned a small auto repair business outside Atlanta.
Thomas was charming, ambitious, and always looking for a shortcut to success.
Dad was the opposite.
He preferred working with his hands and saving every dollar.
"They were inseparable until their father died," Daniel explained.
"Then something happened involving the family business.""
Dad nodded.
"My brother wanted to sell everything. I wanted to keep the shop running. We argued for months.""
"Then what happened?"" I asked.
"Thomas took money from the business account. A lot of it. When I confronted him, he told me I was too stupid to understand how business worked.""
Dad looked toward the window.
"He left Atlanta shortly afterward. Six months later, someone called to tell me he'd died in a boating accident.""
I felt a chill.
"Who told you?""
"An old family friend. He said the authorities had recovered personal belongings, but there was no body.""
"Didn't you investigate?""
"I tried. There were no official records I could find. Eventually, I accepted what I was told.""
Daniel leaned forward.
"Did Thomas know about Sarah?""
Dad nodded.
"He met her twice before we got married.""
"And did he know about your daughter's trust?""
Dad looked confused.
"No. Nobody knew about that except Sarah, her attorney, and me.""
Daniel pointed at the screen.
"Then we need to hear the rest of this recording.""
He pressed play.
Static filled the room.
Then Patricia's voice returned.
"Thomas, you promised me Michael would never discover the original documents.""
A man's voice answered.
"Relax, Patricia. My brother has spent his entire life fixing other people's cars. He doesn't ask questions.""
"Sarah asked questions.""
"Sarah was a problem.""
There was a pause.
Then Patricia said something that made my father grip the table.
"She was going to expose us.""
Thomas laughed.
"That's why we needed her to stop.""
The recording ended abruptly.
Nobody moved.
I looked at Daniel.
"Did they hurt my mother?""
He didn't answer immediately.
"Emily, we don't know what this recording proves. But it raises serious concerns that need to be investigated by law enforcement.""
Dad stood.
"Where is Thomas?""
Daniel opened another document.
"According to records uncovered during the investigation, a Thomas Carter has been receiving payments from Whitmore Educational Consulting for several years.""
Dad shook his head.
"That's impossible.""
"There's more. The company lists him as an external financial consultant.""
My father's face hardened.
"He's alive.""
Daniel nodded.
"It appears so.""
I looked at the financial records.
There were monthly payments ranging from $1,500 to $3,000.
The first payment had been made seven years earlier.
The same year Dad established the memorial scholarship.
"Why would Patricia pay my father's brother?"" I asked.
Daniel turned the document toward us.
"That's what we need to find out.""
Dad stared at the payments.
Then he pointed to a particular transaction.
"Wait. What's this?""
Daniel examined it.
"A transfer of $9,200.""
"Where did it go?""
"To an account registered under the name Thomas Reed.""
Dad shook his head.
"That's the name he used when he left home.""
The room became silent.
Daniel made a copy of the records.
"I'll contact the investigators handling the scholarship irregularities. We need to establish whether this account was involved in the attempted transfers.""
Dad looked at the USB drive.
"Play the recording again.""
Daniel hesitated.
"Michael—"
"Please.""
He pressed play.
This time, we listened more carefully.
Near the end, beneath the static, another sentence became audible.
Patricia's voice was almost a whisper.
"What about the little girl?""
Thomas answered.
"She's too young to remember anything. By the time she's old enough to ask questions, the paperwork will be gone.""
Dad suddenly covered his mouth.
I felt my knees weaken.
They had been talking about me.
I was six years old when my mother died.
Six.
And someone had already been planning what I would and wouldn't know.
Dad pulled me into his arms.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart.""
I held him tightly.
"Why are you apologizing?""
"Because I should have protected you from all of this.""
I shook my head.
"You did protect me. You raised me. You worked every day to give me a good life.""
He closed his eyes.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Daniel's phone rang.
He answered, listened, and looked increasingly concerned.
"Yes. I understand.""
He hung up.
"What happened?"" Dad asked.
Daniel looked at us.
"The independent scholarship committee has received another communication from someone claiming to represent the Carter family.""
"Who?"" I asked.
Daniel slowly turned his laptop around.
An email had arrived less than five minutes earlier.
The sender's name was Thomas Reed.
May you like
The subject line read:
*I HAVE PROOF MICHAEL CARTER STOLE HIS WIFE'S MONEY.*
