Chapter 6
Michael didn’t speak for several seconds.
Then he laughed.
One short, broken sound.
“My father had cancer.”
Diane nodded quickly.
“Yes.”
“He died from cancer.”
“Yes.”
“So why would he think someone was poisoning him?”
“He was sick. Confused.”
“Daniel said he wasn’t.”
“Daniel wasn’t there every day.”
Jason stood from the curb.
“What poison?”
Diane looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
“You just said Dad wrote a letter.”
“I never saw the original.”
“But you knew about it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Aaron showed me a photograph.”
Michael stepped closer.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“The same time he found you?”
“Yes.”
“And he threatened you with it?”
“He said he would go to the police.”
“Why didn’t he?”
Diane’s mouth tightened.
“Because I paid him.”
The answer was so ugly that no one reacted immediately.
Then Michael whispered, “You paid him not to tell police that Dad thought someone was poisoning him.”
“It was nonsense.”
“Then why pay?”
“To protect the family.”
“From nonsense?”
Diane glared at him.
“You don’t know what scandal does to people.”
Michael rubbed his face.
“My father has been dead for twenty years.”
“Yes.”
“If you had nothing to hide, why care?”
Diane said nothing.
Jason stepped forward.
“Did you poison Dad?”
“No!”
People near the bank entrance turned.
Diane lowered her voice.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“No one.”
“You just admitted he suspected someone.”
“He was taking strong medication.”
Michael looked at me.
I knew what he was thinking.
Daniel Harper.
If anyone might know, it was him.
We returned home.
Diane did not come with us.
The police took copies of the bank documents and told Michael they would contact him.
By noon, Daniel Harper was sitting in our kitchen.
He looked older than I expected.
Late sixties.
Silver hair.
Tired eyes.
He carried two locked briefcases.
When Michael told him about Aaron, Daniel went pale.
“You know the name,” Michael said.
Daniel set down his coffee.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Your father knew.”
Diane had claimed Aaron appeared six years ago.
That was another lie.
Michael leaned forward.
“Dad knew Mom had a child before him?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know Aaron?”
“Not personally.”
“When did he find out?”
“About a year before he became sick.”
Jason frowned.
“How?”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“Your father hired a private investigator.”
Michael stared at him.
“To investigate Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money was disappearing.”
Of course.
Always money.
Daniel opened one briefcase.
Inside were old files.
He removed a folder labeled ROBERT BENNETT.
My husband stared at his father’s name.
Daniel opened it.
“Your father noticed withdrawals from a business account.”
“How much?”
“Initially, small amounts. Two thousand. Five thousand. Then twenty.”
“Where was it going?”
“He didn’t know.”
“Was Mom sending it to Aaron?”
“No.”
Daniel paused.
“Aaron was still a child then.”
We all froze.
Michael frowned.
“What?”
Daniel looked at us.
“Aaron is not forty-four.”
Diane had lied again.
“How old is he?”
“Thirty-six.”
Jason’s face twisted.
“That would make Mom twenty-five when he was born.”
Daniel nodded.
Michael slowly sat back.
“She was married to Dad.”
“Yes.”
Silence fell over the kitchen.
Jason whispered, “Aaron isn’t a child she gave away before Dad.”
“No.”
Michael’s voice became cold.
“Who is his father?”
Daniel looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
“Did Dad?”
“He suspected.”
“Who?”
Daniel hesitated.
“His business partner.”
Michael shut his eyes.
I remembered photographs.
Robert Bennett standing beside another man at construction sites.
At barbecues.
At Michael’s childhood birthdays.
“Frank Dawson?” Michael asked.
Daniel nodded.
Jason stood so quickly his chair scraped the floor.
“Uncle Frank?”
Michael looked at him.
“He wasn’t our uncle.”
“We called him Uncle Frank.”
“I know.”
Daniel continued.
“Your father suspected Diane and Frank had an affair.”
Michael looked sick.
“For how long?”
“Years.”
“And Aaron?”
“Your father believed Aaron was their son.”
“Where was he?”
“Placed with relatives under another name.”
“Whose relatives?”
“Frank’s sister.”
Michael stared at Daniel.
“So Mom hid a child while married to Dad.”
“Yes.”
“Dad found out.”
“Yes.”
“And then he got sick.”
Daniel’s expression darkened.
“Approximately eight months later.”
The room went silent.
I asked the question no one wanted to.
“What kind of cancer?”
“Pancreatic.”
“Could poison imitate it?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I’m an attorney, not a physician.”
“But Robert thought so.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Daniel removed an envelope.
It was yellow with age.
He did not open it.
“This is a copy.”
Michael stared.
“Of the letter?”
“Yes.”
“The one Aaron has?”
“Possibly.”
Daniel handed it over.
Michael’s hands shook.
He unfolded the pages.
I read beside him.
Robert wrote that he had experienced symptoms before his diagnosis.
Nausea.
Weakness.
Numbness.
Confusion.
Then the symptoms became worse after Diane prepared certain drinks.
He wrote that when he stopped drinking them for several days, he improved.
Then Diane insisted he resume.
Michael stopped reading.
“I remember those.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What?”
“The green drinks.”
Jason’s face changed.
“So do I.”
Michael stared at his brother.
“Mom said they were supplements.”
“She made Dad drink them every morning.”
I felt cold.
Daniel continued.
“Robert had one sample tested privately.”
Michael looked down at the letter.
“Did he find anything?”
Daniel pulled another document from the folder.
“A laboratory detected elevated arsenic.”
No one moved.
Michael whispered, “Arsenic?”
“In the sample.”
“Did Dad go to police?”
“He planned to.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“He died four days later.”
Jason turned away.
Michael stared at Daniel.
“And you had this for twenty years.”
Pain crossed Daniel’s face.
“I had a copy of his letter. Not the laboratory report.”
“When did you get that?”
“Later.”
“How?”
“The investigator.”
“Why wasn’t this reported?”
“It was.”
Michael froze.
“What?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Your father’s investigator reported his suspicions.”
“To police?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing conclusive.”
“Why?”
“His death had already been certified as natural.”
“Did they investigate Mom?”
“Briefly.”
Michael’s voice rose.
“I never heard about this!”
“You were nineteen.”
“I deserved to know!”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Diane threatened to destroy you.”
Michael stared.
“How?”
“She said if the allegations became public, she would tell everyone your father abused her.”
Jason snapped around.
“What?”
Daniel nodded.
“She claimed the affair and hidden child happened because Robert was violent.”
“Was he?”
“I never saw evidence.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
Daniel looked at both brothers.
“I don’t know what happened inside their marriage.”
Michael sank into his chair.
Everything about his childhood was being rewritten in hours.
His father.
His mother.
His family.
His own choices.
I took his hand.
He squeezed mine.
Then Daniel said something worse.
“There is another reason I stopped pushing.”
Michael looked up.
“What?”
“Frank Dawson disappeared.”
Jason frowned.
“When?”
“Three weeks after your father died.”
Michael stared.
“I thought he moved to Arizona.”
“That’s what Diane told everyone.”
“He didn’t?”
“Not according to the investigator.”
“Where did he go?”
“No one knows.”
The kitchen became silent.
I looked at the old documents.
Two men connected to Diane.
One dead.
One missing.
Michael asked, “Was Aaron with Frank’s sister then?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know Frank disappeared?”
“Of course.”
“Did she say anything?”
“She refused to speak.”
Daniel opened his second briefcase.
“I brought something else.”
He removed a small cassette tape in a plastic evidence bag.
Michael stared.
“What is that?”
“Your father recorded a conversation.”
“With Mom?”
“Yes.”
Michael didn’t touch it.
“When?”
“Six days before he died.”
“Have you heard it?”
“Yes.”
“What does she say?”
Daniel looked toward the stairs.
“Are the children home?”
“At Rachel’s.”
“Good.”
My stomach tightened.
“What’s on the tape?”
Daniel exhaled.
“Robert confronts Diane about Aaron.”
Michael closed his eyes.
“And?”
“She admits the affair.”
Jason cursed.
“She admits taking money.”
Michael nodded slowly.
“And the poison?”
Daniel’s face changed.
“She never admits poisoning him.”
We waited.
“But?”
Daniel continued.
“At the end of the recording, Robert tells her he sent evidence to someone outside the state.”
Michael leaned forward.
“What evidence?”
“He doesn’t say.”
“What does Mom say?”
Daniel looked at him.
“She says, ‘Then I’ll have to find it after you’re gone.’”
No one spoke.
Michael stared at the cassette.
Finally he said, “Can we play it?”
Daniel nodded.
We found an old cassette player in a storage box in the garage.
Michael placed the tape inside.
Pressed play.
Static filled the kitchen.
Then a man’s voice.
His father.
Older.
Weak.
But clear.
“Tell me the truth, Diane.”
Michael’s entire body went rigid.
He hadn’t heard that voice in twenty years.
Diane answered.
“You already decided what you believe.”
“I know about Frank.”
Silence.
“I know about the boy.”
More silence.
Then Diane whispered, “His name is Aaron.”
Michael covered his mouth.
The tape continued.
Robert asked, “Is he Frank’s?”
Diane said nothing.
Robert repeated the question.
Finally she said, “Yes.”
Jason shut his eyes.
Robert’s voice cracked.
“How long?”
Diane answered, “It’s over.”
“How long?”
“Robert—”
“How long?”
“Seven years.”
Michael stood abruptly and walked away.
I wanted to follow.
He raised one hand.
He needed to hear it.
Robert continued.
“You stole from our accounts.”
“I moved money.”
“You funded a secret life.”
“I supported my son.”
“You hid my wife’s child from me.”
“He wasn’t yours.”
“No. He was my best friend’s.”
The pain in Robert’s voice filled the room.
Then came a long silence.
Robert spoke again.
“I know what you’ve been putting in those drinks.”
Diane’s voice changed.
“What are you talking about?”
“I had one tested.”
Silence.
“Arsenic, Diane.”
The cassette hissed.
Diane whispered, “You’re sick.”
“Yes.”
“You have cancer.”
“Yes.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“Maybe.”
Then Robert said, “That’s why I sent everything away.”
Diane asked, “Where?”
“You’ll never know.”
“Robert.”
“To someone you don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
Her voice hardened.
“Then I’ll have to find it after you’re gone.”
The tape ended.
Michael stood by the window with his back to us.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A man spoke.
Michael’s face changed.
We could hear only part of it.
Then he put the call on speaker.
The man said, “My name is Aaron.”
No one moved.
May you like
Aaron continued.
“And if you want to know what really happened to your father, come alone.”
