Chapter 7
The room exploded.
Patricia screamed that the email meant nothing.
Lauren screamed at Patricia.
Daniel shouted for an attorney.
Detective Brooks shouted for everyone to stop talking.
I heard all of it from far away.
I couldn't take my eyes off the page.
I need the failure to look natural.
Seven words.
Seven words that changed every memory I had of March.
The morning of the crash, Daniel had kissed me goodbye.
He had reminded me to take an umbrella.
He had told me he loved me.
Forty minutes later, I pressed the brake pedal and nothing happened.
I remembered pumping it.
I remembered screaming.
I remembered the rear of a delivery truck getting closer.
I remembered turning the wheel because I had nowhere else to go.
Concrete.
Metal.
Glass.
Airbag.
Blood.
Then Daniel at the hospital.
Crying.
Holding my hand.
“You scared me to death.”
The memory made me gag.
Lauren grabbed my shoulders.
“Sarah?”
I handed the email to Detective Brooks.
He read it.
His face became unreadable.
“Where did this come from?”
Patricia answered.
“It's out of context.”
Brooks looked at her.
“I asked Sarah.”
“It was with my mother's documents.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Daniel was handcuffed again.
This time he wasn't fighting.
He looked at me.
“Sarah, don't do this.”
I almost couldn't believe the words.
“I didn't do anything.”
“That email isn't what you think.”
“What does it mean?”
“My attorney.”
“You wrote it.”
“My attorney.”
“Who is the mechanic?”
His jaw clenched.
“My attorney.”
Brooks turned to another officer.
“Separate them.”
Patricia grabbed his sleeve.
“You cannot treat my son like a murderer over a piece of paper.”
“Ma'am, step back.”
“He loved her.”
I laughed.
The sound came out broken.
Patricia looked at me.
“You know he did.”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“I don't know anything anymore.”
Police collected every document in the room.
They photographed the table.
The fireplace.
My mother's letter.
The corporate agreements.
The key.
The printed email.
Patricia protested continuously.
Then one officer found a folder inside the cabinet beneath the television.
Inside were bank statements.
Photocopies of my driver's license.
Samples of my signature.
A copy of the life insurance policy.
And a repair invoice from a garage in Cicero.
Detective Brooks stopped reading after the first page.
“Daniel Miller, you're being detained pending further investigation.”
Daniel's face changed.
“You don't have enough.”
“Maybe.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Maybe.”
Brooks motioned toward the door.
“Let's go.”
Daniel looked at Patricia.
For the first time, I saw fear between them.
Not motherly concern.
Shared fear.
The fear of two people who knew there were things the other could say.
“Mom.”
Patricia shook her head.
“Don't say anything.”
“I know.”
She stepped toward him.
“Call Stephen.”
His attorney.
Daniel nodded.
Then he looked at me.
His expression softened.
It was horrifying how quickly he could switch.
“Sarah.”
I backed away.
“Please.”
I had heard that voice in hospitals.
At funerals.
In bed.
After arguments.
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
My eyes went to the email in the evidence bag.
He followed my gaze.
“That's not what you think.”
“Then what is it?”
He said nothing.
The officers took him outside.
Patricia watched through the window until the police car disappeared.
Then she turned to me.
“You've killed him.”
Lauren stepped forward.
“Excuse me?”
“His career. His reputation. Everything he worked for.”
I stared at Patricia.
“Did you know?”
“About what?”
“My brakes.”
“No.”
It came too fast.
“Did you know?”
“I said no.”
“You had the email.”
“I didn't know it was in those papers.”
“Those papers were in your house.”
“Daniel left boxes here.”
“Why?”
“He trusted me.”
“Did you know about the insurance policy?”
Silence.
“You knew.”
“I knew he had purchased coverage.”
“Did you know he hid it in paperwork?”
She looked away.
“You knew.”
“It was financial planning.”
“Two million dollars on my life.”
“Married people insure each other.”
“Then why was it secret?”
No answer.
Lauren moved beside me.
“We're done here.”
Patricia looked at me.
“Your mother would hate what you're doing.”
I walked toward her.
Slowly.
“Never use my mother against me again.”
She stared back.
“She had more secrets than Daniel ever did.”
“Maybe.”
I picked up my coat.
“But she never tried to make me doubt my own sanity.”
Patricia laughed bitterly.
“You are exactly like her.”
“For once, I'll take that as a compliment.”
We left.
Outside, the cold air felt clean.
For ten seconds I stood in the snow and breathed.
Then my phone rang.
Jacob.
I almost ignored it.
Lauren shook her head.
“Answer.”
I did.
“Where are you?”
His voice sounded strange.
“Driving.”
“Where?”
“South.”
“South where?”
“I don't know.”
“Jacob, stop.”
“I can't.”
“What happened?”
He started crying.
My brother almost never cried.
Even at Mom's funeral, he had stood beside the grave with his jaw clenched.
Now I could hear him struggling to breathe.
“I didn't know about the car.”
My skin went cold.
“What?”
“Daniel called me.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“How? He was in police custody.”
“He called before they took his phone. I don't know.”
“What did he say?”
“He said you found something at Patricia's.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing.”
“Jacob.”
“I swear.”
“Did you know about the insurance policy?”
“No.”
“Did you know about my brakes?”
“No!”
He shouted it so loudly I pulled the phone away.
“I sold him papers, Sarah. That's all. I thought he was trying to hide money in the divorce. I thought he was screwing you financially.”
“You thought that was acceptable?”
“No.”
His voice broke.
“No, I just needed money.”
“Eighty thousand dollars.”
“I owed people.”
“Who?”
“Doesn't matter.”
“It matters if you sold my identity to pay them.”
“I didn't think he'd hurt you.”
“But you knew he was forging documents.”
Silence.
“Jacob.”
“He asked for signature samples after I gave him the estate records.”
“And you gave them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said his lawyer needed proof that you'd acknowledged some old family agreement.”
I closed my eyes.
“You believed him?”
“I chose to believe him.”
At least he wasn't pretending anymore.
I heard highway noise behind him.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Thomas Halston's daughter.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Daniel doesn't have the only copy of Mom's agreement.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Mom told me once that Thomas's family kept duplicate records.”
“Why would his daughter have them?”
“Because she's the executor of his estate.”
“Who is she?”
“Rebecca Halston.”
The name was familiar.
Then I remembered.
Rebecca Halston served on the board of Halston Packaging.
She had always treated me strangely.
Not cruelly.
Just cautiously.
As if she knew something about me.
“Where does she live?”
“Indiana.”
“Jacob, don't show up at her house.”
“I already called.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That I'm Thomas's son.”
My breath stopped.
“And?”
“She went silent.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me to come.”
Lauren mouthed, What?
I put the phone on speaker.
Jacob continued.
“Sarah, there's something else.”
“What?”
“Mom didn't leave the controlling rights to you by accident.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When Daniel paid me for the documents, he made me sign something.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“A waiver.”
“For what?”
“I didn't understand it at the time.”
“You sign a lot of things you don't understand.”
“I know.”
“What did it waive?”
“My claim to Thomas Halston's estate.”
Silence.
Lauren whispered, “Oh my God.”
Jacob said, “Daniel knew before either of us did.”
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“He found Mom's letter?”
“Maybe.”
My head started spinning.
If Jacob was legally Thomas Halston's biological son, there could be inheritance issues far beyond my mother's shares.
Daniel had discovered the secret.
He had paid Jacob to waive rights he didn't know he had.
“Send Maya everything.”
“I don't have the paper.”
“Daniel does?”
“Yes.”
“Of course he does.”
“I'll call you after I see Rebecca.”
“Jacob.”
“What?”
“Do not take money from anyone.”
He gave a broken laugh.
“I think I've finally learned that one.”
The call ended.
The next twenty-four hours were chaos.
Daniel was questioned.
Released.
Then brought back after police obtained additional evidence.
The garage listed on the invoice had closed months earlier.
But investigators found the former owner.
A man named Victor Salazar.
By the following afternoon, Detective Brooks called me.
“We found him.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“The mechanic?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“We're interviewing him.”
“Did Daniel pay him?”
“I can't discuss details yet.”
“Detective.”
He exhaled.
“He says Daniel approached him.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“For what?”
“He claims Daniel asked whether a brake line could be damaged in a way that might not fail immediately.”
I sat down.
Lauren covered her mouth.
“Did he do it?”
“He denies touching your car.”
“Then who did?”
“We don't know.”
“Did Daniel?”
“We don't know.”
I stared at the Christmas lights glowing in Lauren's living room.
They suddenly seemed obscene.
“But Daniel asked how.”
“Yes.”
My voice disappeared.
Brooks continued.
“Sarah, there's more.”
I almost laughed.
There was always more.
“What?”
“The mechanic says Daniel wasn't alone when he first approached him.”
My heart stopped.
“Who was with him?”
“He identified someone from a photograph.”
“Patricia?”
“No.”
“Emily?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Brooks paused.
“Your brother.”
I couldn't speak.
Jacob had just told me he knew nothing about the car.
“Are you sure?”
“The mechanic is.”
I hung up and called Jacob.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Rebecca Halston called me.
Her voice was shaking.
“Sarah?”
“Yes.”
“I'm Rebecca.”
“I know.”
“Your brother is here.”
Relief hit me.
“Put him on.”
She didn't.
“Rebecca?”
Her next words turned my blood to ice.
“He's been lying to you.”
I closed my eyes.
“About what?”
“Almost everything.”
Then I heard Jacob in the background shouting.
“Don't tell her!”
Rebecca continued anyway.
“Sarah, your brother wasn't helping Daniel because he needed money.”
May you like
“What?”
“He was helping Daniel because they were partners.”
