Chapter 5: The House Wasn’t Empty
I drove home with Detective Harris on speakerphone.
Nathan sat in the passenger seat.
For the first time since I had known him, he wasn't trying to control the conversation.
He kept staring through the windshield.
“What exactly did the camera show?”” I asked.
Detective Harris answered.
“Your mother-in-law entered through the back door approximately twenty minutes ago.””
“Was she alone?””
“No.””
I glanced at Nathan.
“Who was with her?””
“We're still identifying the second person.””
Nathan shifted in his seat.
I noticed.
“You know who it is.””
He shook his head.
“No.””
“Don't lie to me again.””
“I don't know.””
Detective Harris interrupted.
“Rachel, do not enter the house until officers arrive.””
“I'm almost there.””
“Pull over.””
“I need to see what's happening.””
“Rachel—”
The call crackled.
Then the line went silent.
I looked at my phone.
No signal.
Nathan stared at me.
“They must be using a signal jammer.””
I slammed the brakes.
“What?””
He looked toward our neighborhood.
“Diane uses one when she doesn't want security systems recording.””
I stared at him.
“You knew about this?””
“She used it once before.””
“For what?””
He said nothing.
I put the car in park.
“Nathan.””
He sighed.
“When we were planning the property transfer.””
My stomach twisted.
“You've done this before.””
“No.””
“You just said—”
“I said we planned it.””
I stepped out of the car.
Nathan followed.
“You can't go in there.””
“I'm not going in.””
I pointed toward the house.
“We're going to watch.””
We crouched behind a hedge across the street.
The house looked normal.
Too normal.
Curtains closed.
Porch light on.
No movement.
Then the garage door opened.
A man stepped out carrying a large cardboard box.
Nathan grabbed my arm.
“That's Evan.””
The attorney.
The same man from the messages.
He put the box into the trunk of a silver sedan.
I whispered, “Why is your lawyer stealing things from my house?””
Nathan didn't answer.
Evan opened the driver's door.
Diane appeared behind him.
She carried a black folder.
My folder.
The one containing my father’s estate documents.
I stood.
“Diane!””
She froze.
Evan turned.
Nathan grabbed my shoulder.
“Don't.””
I shook him off.
Diane stared at me from across the street.
Then she smiled.
Not nervously.
Not guiltily.
Calmly.
“Oh, Rachel.””
She walked toward us.
“You came home.””
I held up my phone.
“You were told not to come here.””
Diane glanced at Nathan.
He looked down.
“You always were too curious,” she said.
“You stole my documents.””
“They belong to the estate.””
“They belong to me.””
“No.””
She stopped a few feet away.
“They belong to whoever legally controls the estate.””
I felt a chill.
“You mean yourself.””
Diane smiled.
“You're finally understanding.””
Nathan stepped between us.
“Mom, stop.””
She turned on him.
“You stop.””
Her voice became sharp.
“You were supposed to keep her distracted.””
Nathan looked stunned.
“You told me she wouldn't find out.””
“I told you she wouldn't find out yet.””
Evan closed the trunk.
I pointed at him.
“What did you take?””
He said nothing.
Diane answered for him.
“The original marriage certificate.””
My heart stopped.
“You found it.””
“Yes.””
“Where was it?””
Diane smiled.
“Exactly where your father hid it.””
Nathan looked at her.
“You said it was gone.””
“I said that because she couldn't know it existed.””
I looked at Nathan.
“You knew?””
“No.””
Diane laughed.
“Of course he didn't.””
She turned toward me.
“That's the problem with men like my son. They think they're clever because they can lie to a woman.””
Nathan's face flushed.
“Mom, you told me the certificate had been destroyed.””
“I told you what you needed to hear.””
A police siren sounded in the distance.
Diane's smile disappeared.
Evan immediately got into the sedan.
“Go,” Diane said.
He sped away.
Two police cars turned onto the street.
Diane looked at me.
Then she whispered:
“Your father left you more than a house.””
The officers approached.
I stepped toward her.
“What else did he leave me?””
Diane didn't answer.
She simply smiled.
Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a photograph.
She held it toward me.
It showed my father standing outside a hospital.
Beside him stood Nathan.
But the photograph had been taken eleven years before I ever met my husband.
I stared at it.
“How did my father know Nathan?””
Nathan went completely pale.
May you like
Diane lowered the photograph.
“That,” she said, “is the part your husband never told you.””
