Chapter 4: The Secret My Mother Took to Her Grave
For several seconds, nobody moved.
My father stood at the bottom of the staircase, staring at the photograph in Vanessa's hand.
My mother.
Daniel.
And him.
Three people standing outside a courthouse years before Vanessa had supposedly entered our lives.
"Where did you get that?"" Michael finally asked.
Vanessa slipped the photograph back into her handbag.
"From someone who knew your first wife better than you ever did.""
"Give it to me.""
"No.""
My father stepped forward.
"I said give it to me!""
Vanessa raised her chin.
"Or what? Are you going to hit me? Your son already knows what happens when you get angry.""
I watched my father's face tighten.
He looked at me, then lowered his eyes.
"Ryan, I'm sorry.""
I didn't answer.
An apology couldn't erase the sound of his hand hitting my face.
Vanessa laughed softly.
"How touching. The perfect father and son reunion.""
My father ignored her.
"Tell me what happened to your mother.""
Vanessa removed her coat and placed it over the back of a chair.
"Your wife discovered that Daniel had been moving money through your business. She found documents showing that he had been using your signature on unauthorized transactions.""
"That's impossible.""
"Is it?""
"Daniel has worked with me for twenty years.""
"Exactly. He knew every password, every account, and every weakness in your company.""
My father shook his head.
"Why didn't Claire tell me?""
Vanessa's smile widened.
"She tried.""
I felt something tighten in my chest.
"My mother never mentioned Daniel doing anything wrong.""
"Because she was afraid.""
"Afraid of what?""
Vanessa looked directly at me.
"Your father.""
I stepped forward.
"Stop talking about my mother like you knew her.""
Vanessa shrugged.
"Believe whatever makes you comfortable.""
My father grabbed the photograph from the table after she carelessly set it down.
He examined the writing on the back.
"Claire wrote this," he whispered.
Then he turned it over again.
"When was this taken?""
"Eight years ago," Vanessa replied.
My father frowned.
"That's impossible. Daniel was supposed to be in Chicago that year.""
Vanessa laughed.
"He was never in Chicago.""
My father looked at me.
I could see his mind racing through memories, searching for something that suddenly no longer made sense.
"Why would Claire keep this photograph?""
Vanessa shrugged.
"Perhaps she wanted proof.""
"Proof of what?""
"That Daniel wasn't the only person hiding things.""
Before she could continue, my father's phone rang.
The screen displayed an unfamiliar number.
He answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice came through.
"Mr. Michael Carter? This is Detective Harris with the Atlanta Police Department. We received an anonymous report concerning your vehicle accident last year.""
My father stiffened.
"What report?""
"We need to ask you some questions about possible evidence tampering. Can you come to the station this afternoon?""
Vanessa's face changed.
My father noticed.
"Who contacted you?"" he asked.
"We can't disclose that information over the phone.""
He ended the call slowly.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
"Did you report me?""
She rolled her eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous.""
"Did you?""
"I've spent three years protecting you, Michael. You should be thanking me.""
My father looked down at the medicine bottle in his hand.
"By poisoning me?""
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
"You don't know what was in those pills.""
"Then explain it.""
She remained silent.
I took out my phone.
"I'm calling the police.""
Vanessa suddenly lunged toward me.
"Don't you dare!""
I stepped away and raised the phone.
"Stay back!""
My father moved between us.
"Vanessa, this is over.""
She stared at him.
For the first time, the woman who had controlled every conversation in our house seemed to realize that she was losing control.
But then she smiled.
A small, unsettling smile.
"You really think I'm the only person involved?""
My father frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Vanessa reached into her handbag and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
She placed it on the table.
"Before you call anyone, Michael, you might want to read what your first wife signed.""
My father unfolded it.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then his knees nearly gave way.
It was a notarized statement dated six months before my mother's death.
And at the bottom was her signature.
The statement claimed that she had voluntarily transferred control of a substantial family trust to Daniel.
My father stared at the paper.
"Claire never signed this.""
Vanessa tilted her head.
"Then I suggest you ask your brother why he has the original.""
She picked up her handbag and walked toward the front door.
My father didn't stop her.
Neither did I.
But just before she opened it, she turned around.
"One more thing, Ryan.""
I looked at her.
"Your mother left you something. Daniel has spent years trying to find it.""
"What?""
Vanessa smiled.
"Something she hid before she died.""
Then she walked out.
My father stood motionless.
I looked at the document again.
At the bottom, beneath my mother's signature, was a date.
And beside it was a handwritten note.
*Witnessed by: Michael Carter.*
My father stared at his own name.
Then he whispered:
"I've never seen this document before.""
May you like
But if he hadn't witnessed it, who had signed his name?
And why had my mother apparently trusted someone enough to leave a warning about Daniel?
