Chapter 7: The Dead Woman Who Called Me
"Your mother has been dead for eleven years, Sarah.""
The words echoed through the car.
I stared at Caleb's phone.
"That's impossible. I saw her photograph. You told me she was alive.""
The caller remained silent.
Then he spoke again.
"The woman in that photograph isn't Margaret Mitchell.""
Caleb pulled onto the shoulder and switched on the hazard lights.
"Identify yourself," he demanded.
"I'm someone who worked for Thomas Carter. Someone who knows what happened in that hospital.""
"Then tell us.""
"I can't explain everything over the phone. But there's one thing Sarah needs to understand. The woman she's been searching for isn't her mother.""
I grabbed the phone.
"Then who is she?""
"Your mother's younger sister. Patricia.""
My mouth fell open.
I had never heard that name.
My mother had always told me she was an only child.
"You're lying.""
"I'm not. Margaret had a sister who disappeared shortly after the hospital incident. Thomas paid her to stay away from Atlanta because he believed she was in danger.""
Caleb leaned toward the phone.
"What's your name?""
"Arthur Collins.""
Caleb went completely still.
"Arthur?""
"Yes.""
"I thought you were dead.""
A bitter laugh came through the speaker.
"Apparently, a lot of people in this family have been declared dead.""
The call disconnected.
I looked at Caleb.
"Who is Arthur Collins?""
He stared at the road.
"Thomas's former head of security.""
"Another person everyone told me was dead?""
"Arthur was responsible for protecting Thomas during the final months of his life. He disappeared after Thomas died.""
I felt my patience breaking.
"Why does everyone disappear in this family?""
Caleb didn't answer.
He started the car again.
"Because someone has spent twelve years making sure the truth never comes out.""
We reached Savannah shortly after sunset.
The address on my mother's note led to a small brick house on a quiet residential street.
The porch light was on.
A flowerpot sat beside the front steps.
Someone was home.
I stepped out of the car before Caleb could stop me.
"Sarah, wait.""
I walked to the door and knocked.
Nothing.
I knocked again.
"Hello? I'm looking for Margaret Mitchell.""
A curtain moved.
Then a woman appeared behind the glass.
She was in her early sixties, with gray-streaked hair and familiar green eyes.
My breath caught.
She opened the door slightly.
"Sarah?""
My knees nearly gave way.
"Do I know you?""
The woman covered her mouth.
"Oh, sweetheart.""
I stepped backward.
"Who are you?""
She opened the door fully.
"My name is Patricia Mitchell.""
I stared at her.
"My mother's sister?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
"Why have I never heard of you?""
Patricia looked toward Caleb.
"Because Margaret was afraid you'd find out what happened.""
I entered the house.
The living room smelled of coffee and lavender. Family photographs covered one wall, but none included my mother.
Patricia locked the door behind us.
"Did Caleb tell you about the money?""
"Yes.""
She sat down heavily.
"Then you need to see something.""
She walked to a cabinet and removed a small wooden box.
Inside were bank statements, hospital documents, and several photographs.
One photograph showed my mother standing beside a hospital bed.
Another showed Thomas Carter holding a newborn baby.
Me.
I touched the photograph.
"Why did you tell people my mother was dead?""
Patricia's eyes filled.
"Because the real Margaret died eleven years ago.""
The room went silent.
I felt as if someone had punched the air out of my lungs.
"Then who have I been seeing?""
"Someone pretending to be her.""
"Who?""
Patricia looked at Caleb.
He closed his eyes.
"Arthur Collins's wife," he whispered.
Patricia nodded.
"Her name is Helen.""
I stood abruptly.
"Why would she pretend to be my mother?""
"Because Margaret left something behind. Something Thomas wanted to give you.""
Patricia opened the wooden box again.
This time, she removed a small silver key.
"Your mother gave me this before she died. She told me never to hand it to anyone except you.""
I took it.
"What does it open?""
"A safety deposit box at First National Bank.""
Caleb examined the key.
"Thomas had an account there.""
Patricia shook her head.
"Not Thomas. Margaret.""
She pulled out a yellow envelope.
Inside was a handwritten note.
If Sarah ever learns the truth, give her the key. But make sure she understands that Evelyn wasn't the only person who wanted me silenced.
I looked up.
"Who else?""
Patricia's voice dropped.
"Your husband.""
Before I could ask another question, headlights swept across the front windows.
A car stopped outside.
Then someone knocked.
Three times.
Patricia went pale.
"That's impossible.""
Caleb moved toward the curtain.
A familiar voice came from the porch.
"Sarah? It's Marcus. Open the door.""
I turned toward Patricia.
She grabbed my arm.
"Don't let him inside.""
May you like
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"He's not here to apologize.""
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