Chapter 5: The Woman in the Bank Photograph
Rebecca called the title company's investigator from my kitchen while I sat at the table where Robert and I had celebrated forty Christmases.
Daniel paced between the refrigerator and the back door.
Every few minutes, he stopped as though he wanted to say something, then started walking again.
Finally, I put my hands flat on the table.
“Sit down.””
He looked at me.
“Mom—”
“Sit. Down.””
He pulled out a chair.
For the first time that day, my son obeyed without arguing.
“Tell me everything you know about Christopher Hayes.””
Daniel stared at his hands.
“Brittany said he was an investor. Someone who helped her evaluate properties.””
“Properties?””
“She told me she wanted to start buying rental homes. She said we could build something for our future.””
“With what money?””
“I thought she had savings.””
I looked toward the hallway.
“You thought your wife had enough money to invest in real estate, but you didn't think to ask where it came from?””
His jaw tightened.
“I know how that sounds.””
“It sounds like you trusted a stranger more than you trusted your own mother.””
He flinched.
I hadn't meant to say it so cruelly.
But I was tired of protecting his feelings while mine were being trampled.
Daniel leaned forward.
“Mom, I never wanted you to lose your house. Brittany told me the sale would give us enough money to pay off the loan and put you somewhere comfortable. She said the paperwork was legal.””
“You never thought to ask me what I wanted?””
“I thought you would be angry.””
“I am angry.””
He lowered his head.
“I know.””
“No, Daniel. You don't know. Anger is what I feel when somebody cuts in front of me at the grocery store. This is what I feel when the child I raised decides my home is worth more than my trust.””
He covered his face with both hands.
For several moments, the only sound was the refrigerator humming.
Then Rebecca returned from the living room.
“The investigator has located the lender's original application,” she said.
“There may be information in it that helps us identify who prepared the documents.””
She placed several printed pages on the table.
The first showed my name, my address, and the loan amount.
The second showed the account receiving the money.
The third contained a photograph of a woman standing outside a bank.
I recognized her immediately.
Brittany.
She was wearing sunglasses and holding a thick envelope beneath one arm.
Beside her stood a tall man with dark hair, a trimmed beard, and an expensive watch.
“That's Christopher,” Daniel whispered.
Rebecca nodded.
“The investigator obtained this photograph from the lender's file. It was submitted as part of the supporting documentation for the transaction.””
Daniel picked it up.
His hands began to tremble.
“When was this taken?””
“Approximately eight months ago,” Rebecca replied.
Daniel studied the picture.
Then he turned it over.
A handwritten note had been copied onto the back.
*First the loan. Then the sale. Once Margaret is declared incapable, everything becomes simple.*
Daniel stood so abruptly that his chair fell backward.
“No.””
I looked up at him.
“What is it?””
He shoved the photograph toward Rebecca.
“She told me the loan was for a commercial property. She said Christopher was helping her buy a warehouse for a business she planned to start.””
“Did you ever see the warehouse?”” Rebecca asked.
“No.””
“Did you see any business records?””
Daniel shook his head.
“I gave her access to our joint account because she said the investment would make us financially secure.””
I felt cold all over.
“Did our money go into that account too?””
He looked at me.
“I don't know.””
“Your business money?””
“I don't know.””
“The money I gave you?””
He didn't answer.
I pushed my chair back.
“Daniel, I gave you twenty-eight thousand dollars. You told me it would save your business.””
He gripped the edge of the table.
“I thought I could repay you.””
“With what?””
He stared at the photograph.
“I thought the investment would pay off.””
Rebecca exchanged a glance with me.
“The investigator is checking the destination of the funds. We shouldn't assume every transfer came from the same source until the records are verified.””
I nodded, though my stomach was twisting.
Daniel walked to the sink and gripped the counter.
“Why would Brittany do this to us?””
I looked at the wedding photograph hanging on the wall. Brittany had been smiling in it, one hand resting on Daniel's chest.
“I don't know,” I said.
“But I know you helped her without asking enough questions.””
He turned around.
“Are you ever going to forgive me?””
The question was so unexpected that I couldn't answer immediately.
I had forgiven him for breaking my favorite vase when he was ten. I'd forgiven him for crashing Robert's truck at seventeen. I'd forgiven him for borrowing money he never returned in his twenties.
Forgiveness had become a reflex.
But this was different.
“I don't know,” I told him honestly.
“Right now, I need you to help me find out what happened.””
He nodded, wiping his eyes.
Rebecca's phone rang.
She listened, then asked the caller to send the documents immediately.
When she hung up, she looked troubled.
“The investigator found a transfer from the loan proceeds to another account. That account appears to have been used to make a payment on a property in Christopher Hayes's name.””
“Where?”” Daniel demanded.
“Savannah, Georgia.””
He stared at her.
“Brittany told me she had never been to Savannah.””
Rebecca opened another page.
“The purchase was completed seven months ago. The property is a condominium overlooking the river.””
I felt a sudden, sickening certainty.
“Is Brittany's name on it?””
“No. Christopher is the sole recorded owner.””
Daniel's face crumpled.
He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his messages.
Then he stopped.
“Here,” he whispered.
He turned the screen toward us.
A message from Brittany, sent seven months earlier, read:
Don't worry about the paperwork, babe. By Christmas, we'll have everything settled, and Margaret won't be able to interfere anymore.
Daniel read it twice.
Then he looked at me.
“I thought she was talking about moving you into assisted living.””
“Maybe she was.””
“No.”” He shook his head.
“There's something else.””
He opened a second message.
This one contained a photograph of a small brass key lying on a hotel nightstand.
Beneath it, Brittany had written:
Christopher says the second key works. We just need the original documents.
Rebecca reached for the phone.
“Can you tell us when this message was sent?””
Daniel checked the date.
His expression changed.
“It was the same day I helped Brittany move your documents out of the safe.””
My mouth went dry.
“What did you do with them?””
“I gave them to her. She said she was taking them to a lawyer.””
“Which lawyer?””
“I never asked.””
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I could hear Robert's voice as clearly as if he were sitting beside me.
Trust people, Margaret. But never be afraid to ask questions.
I opened my eyes and looked at Rebecca.
“What do we do now?””
She gathered the papers into a neat stack.
“We preserve the evidence, notify the appropriate authorities, and have an independent attorney protect your interests. We also need to find out what that second key opens.””
Daniel looked at the photograph again.
Then he whispered something that made Rebecca stop.
“I know where I've seen that key before.””
He looked toward the hallway.
“Christopher didn't just have access to my mother's safe.””
May you like
He swallowed.
“He had access to my father's old workshop.””
