Chapter 5: The Woman Who Knew Too Much
I didn't sleep that night.
I sat at the kitchen table with my father's letter, the photograph, and the flash drive spread in front of me. Rebecca remained upstairs with Ashley, while Emily stayed beside me, refusing to leave me alone.
At two in the morning, I called my attorney, Thomas Bennett.
Thomas had represented my father before taking over my business accounts. He was sixty-two, meticulous, and famously difficult to surprise.
When he answered, I heard the television playing quietly in the background.
"Michael? It's two in the morning. Is everything all right?""
"No.""
One word was enough to wake him completely.
I told him about the unauthorized transfer, Daniel's name, the lockbox, and my father's letter.
Thomas listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he asked a question I hadn't expected.
"Did you open the envelope your father left you nine years ago?""
I stared at the letter.
"What envelope?""
There was a long silence.
"The envelope he instructed me to deliver to you after the funeral," Thomas said.
"I gave it to you personally. You signed for it.""
I remembered the day.
Thomas had handed me a sealed cream-colored envelope outside my office. I had placed it inside my desk drawer, intending to read it when the funeral arrangements were finished.
Three days later, it had disappeared.
I had assumed a cleaner or one of my employees had accidentally discarded it.
"Someone stole it," I said.
Thomas exhaled slowly.
"Then I think we have a much bigger problem than a missing brother.""
I looked at the flash drive.
"Can you come over?""
"Lock every door. Don't confront Rebecca or Daniel until I arrive.""
"Why?""
"Because if your father left evidence of a crime, we need to preserve it properly. And Michael?""
"Yes?""
"Do not connect that flash drive to your business computer.""
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
Emily poured me a cup of coffee.
"Do you think Mom knew Dad's letter was in the wall?""
"Your mother knew more than she's told us.""
"Do you still love her?""
The question hurt more than I expected.
I looked at my daughter, remembering the years after her mother died. Emily had been the person who sat with me in the dark living room when grief made sleep impossible. She had watched me rebuild my life and had finally smiled when Rebecca entered it.
"I don't know what I feel anymore," I admitted.
Emily nodded.
"I don't think Ashley knows what to feel either.""
I glanced toward the staircase.
"Your stepsister helped plan to sell your car.""
"She also looks terrified every time Mom mentions Daniel.""
"That doesn't excuse what she did.""
"I know.""
Emily wrapped both hands around her mug.
"But I think Mom has been telling her things for years. Things that made Ashley believe she was owed something.""
Before I could answer, footsteps sounded above us.
Rebecca appeared in the doorway wearing a robe. Her eyes were swollen from crying, but she had changed out of the clothes she'd worn earlier.
She looked at the documents on the table.
"Did you call Thomas?""
"Yes.""
She closed her eyes.
"Michael, you shouldn't have done that.""
"Why? Is he involved too?""
"No.""
"Then what are you afraid of?""
Rebecca pulled out a chair.
For the first time since the confrontation, she sat down without trying to touch me.
"Your father discovered Daniel had forged his signature on a loan agreement. But there was another document. A deed transferring part of the construction company's ownership into a trust.""
I frowned.
"My father never told me about a trust.""
"Because it was created without his permission.""
I leaned forward.
"Explain.""
"Daniel had been working with a man who specialized in hiding assets. They planned to move ownership of several properties into a company Daniel controlled. If your father died before discovering it, Daniel believed he could claim the properties through the forged documents.""
"How did you find out?""
"Your father showed me the paperwork the night before he died.""
I studied her face.
"Why you?""
She looked down.
"Because I was working at the law office that handled some of his business filings.""
That was new.
When Rebecca and I met, she had told me she worked in administration for a property management company. She had never mentioned working with my father's attorney.
"How long did you work for him?""
"Almost a year.""
"And you never thought to mention it?""
"I was afraid you'd ask questions about Daniel.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You've been afraid of questions for six years.""
Rebecca accepted the accusation without protest.
Then she reached into the pocket of her robe and removed a folded piece of paper.
"I kept this because Daniel told me to destroy it. I couldn't.""
She slid it across the table.
It was a photocopy of a document bearing my father's signature. Beneath it was a list of property addresses and account numbers.
At the bottom, someone had written a handwritten note.
*If Michael receives the trust, Daniel loses everything.*
I stared at the words.
"What trust?""
Rebecca pointed to the final page.
"The original agreement named you as the beneficiary. Your father wanted to protect the company from Daniel.""
"Why didn't I ever receive it?""
"Because the attorney who prepared it disappeared.""
I felt a cold shiver.
"Who was the attorney?""
Rebecca looked at me.
"Arthur Mills.""
The name meant nothing to me until she added one detail.
"He was the man who signed Daniel's death certificate paperwork.""
I pushed back from the table.
"That makes no sense. A lawyer can't sign a death certificate.""
"I know. Arthur didn't sign the medical certificate. He handled the estate filings and helped arrange the paperwork after Daniel disappeared.""
"How could he do that?""
"Because Daniel wasn't legally declared dead when your family held the funeral. The paperwork was submitted later, through an insurance claim.""
My mouth went dry.
"An insurance claim?""
Rebecca nodded.
"Daniel had a life insurance policy. The beneficiary was listed as your father, but after your father's death, the claim was redirected.""
"To whom?""
She hesitated.
"Northbridge Holdings.""
The same company that had received my $186,000.
I stood up and began pacing.
Everything led back to the same place: my brother, the shell company, my father's missing envelope, and the money that had vanished from my account.
But one question remained.
Why had Rebecca married me?
I turned toward her.
"Did you know Daniel was alive when you agreed to marry me?""
She didn't answer quickly enough.
"Rebecca.""
"Yes.""
"Did he tell you to marry me?""
She wiped her face.
"He suggested it.""
I felt as though someone had punched me.
"And you agreed.""
"At first, I thought I could get close to you, find the missing documents, and help Daniel recover what he believed was his. But then I got to know you.""
"Don't.""
"Michael, please.""
"Don't tell me you fell in love and expect that to erase what you did.""
She lowered her head.
"I know.""
For a moment, I thought she might finally tell me everything.
Instead, she looked toward the window.
"There's one thing your father wrote that I never told Daniel.""
"What?""
Rebecca reached for the letter.
"He believed Daniel had an accomplice inside the family.""
I felt the room go still.
"Who?""
She looked at me with frightened eyes.
"I don't know. But your father wrote that the person helping Daniel had access to the house, the business, and your personal accounts.""
I thought of the missing envelope.
The stolen money.
The secret transfer.
Then I remembered the security system at my office. Three weeks earlier, someone had used my access code after midnight.
The alarm report had shown no forced entry.
Only an authorized user.
I pulled out my phone and opened the security application.
There it was.
The entry log.
*ACCESS GRANTED — MICHAEL CARTER.*
I had been at home that night.
I zoomed in on the timestamp and checked the attached camera still.
A figure stood inside my office, wearing my company jacket and carrying a folder.
The face was partially hidden.
But the watch on the person's wrist was unmistakable.
It was the silver watch I'd bought Rebecca for our fifth wedding anniversary.
I slowly turned the screen toward her.
She stopped breathing.
"Michael," she whispered, "I can explain.""
Before she could say another word, the front doorbell rang.
Thomas had arrived.
But when I checked the security camera, I saw someone standing beside him.
A man with my face.
Older, thinner, and wearing a scar across his left cheek.
May you like
My brother was standing on my porch.
And he was smiling.
