Chapter 13: The Man Who Stole My Husband's Name
“Thomas Carter?””
Marcus repeated the name as if saying it aloud might make it less impossible.
Helen was crying on the other end of the phone.
“I swear I didn't know he was using that name. My brother disappeared after James died. Richard told us Thomas had accepted a job overseas, and we believed him.””
Marcus gripped the edge of my hospital bed.
“Your brother was receiving money from my father's trust?””
“I don't know, Marcus. I haven't spoken to Thomas in years.””
“Then help us find him.””
Helen hesitated.
“He used to visit a mechanic's garage near Decatur. If he's still in Atlanta, someone there might know where he is.””
Denise Walker immediately wrote down the address.
“We'll give this information to the investigators,” she said.
“Nobody should approach him without police involvement.””
Marcus nodded, though his expression suggested he was already imagining the confrontation.
After the call ended, he sat beside me.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then he asked, “Mom, do you remember Thomas Bell?””
I thought back to the years before James died.
Thomas had been a quiet man in his early thirties who occasionally attended business dinners with Richard. He had a narrow face, a scar near his left ear, and a habit of watching people without appearing to listen.
I remembered him because James had disliked him.
Not openly. James rarely spoke badly about anyone. But whenever Thomas entered a room, my husband became noticeably guarded.
“He worked with Richard,” I said.
“Your father once told me Thomas was the kind of man who always knew where the money was going, even when he pretended not to care.””
Marcus looked at me.
“Did Dad ever accuse him of anything?””
“No. But one night, after a business dinner, James told me that Richard had hired people who would do anything to protect his secrets.””
Marcus looked down at the documents.
“Maybe Thomas was one of them.””
“Maybe.””
He squeezed my hand.
“I need to know what happened to Dad.””
I touched his cheek.
“Then find the truth. But don't let anger make the decisions for you.””
He promised.
I could see that he meant it.
Whether he could keep that promise was another question.
Two days later, the police located Thomas Bell at a small rented house outside Atlanta.
He was sixty-one now, his hair almost entirely gray. Investigators found him sitting at a kitchen table surrounded by unopened mail and prescription bottles.
He initially denied knowing anything about James Carter's death.
Then investigators showed him the old photograph of the dark sedan.
Thomas stared at it for nearly a minute.
Finally, he asked for a lawyer.
By the time Marcus and I were allowed to meet with him, Denise had arranged for a police detective to remain present.
Thomas sat across from us in a plain interview room.
He looked at me first.
“Mrs. Carter.””
I studied his face.
“You knew my husband.””
“Yes.””
“You knew he had a family.””
Thomas lowered his eyes.
“Yes.””
“And you let us believe he died in an ordinary accident.””
His jaw tightened.
“I didn't cause the accident.””
Marcus leaned forward.
“Then tell us what happened.””
Thomas looked at the detective.
The detective nodded.
“You can answer or remain silent, Mr. Bell. That's your choice.””
Thomas rubbed his hands together.
“Richard hired me to manage sensitive business matters. I handled documents, arranged meetings, and made sure certain people didn't ask questions they weren't supposed to ask.””
“What kind of questions?”” Marcus demanded.
“Questions about missing money.””
“Your money?””
“No. Richard's company money.””
Marcus placed the trust records on the table.
“My father found out what you were doing.””
Thomas glanced at the documents.
“James found out what Richard was doing. I was only following instructions.””
“You were being paid.””
Thomas didn't answer.
“Were you receiving money from my father's trust?””
“Yes.””
The word came out so quietly that I almost didn't hear it.
Marcus went still.
“How much?””
Thomas swallowed.
“Richard paid me to keep quiet.””
“For twenty-six years?””
“Not every month. Sometimes the payments came through another company. Sometimes through Samuel Whitmore.””
Marcus's face hardened.
“And what were you keeping quiet about?””
Thomas stared at the table.
“The night your father died.””
The room seemed to shrink around us.
I gripped the armrests of my chair.
“Tell me.””
Thomas looked at me, and for the first time, I saw genuine shame in his eyes.
“Richard asked me to intercept James before he reached the meeting. He said James was carrying documents that could destroy the company and send everyone involved to prison.””
“Did you hurt him?”” Marcus asked.
“No.””
“Did you change his meeting location?””
Thomas nodded.
“I called the office pretending to be Richard's assistant. I told James the meeting had moved to a different building.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
His father had been redirected by a lie.
“What happened after that?”” he asked.
Thomas took a shaky breath.
“I followed James in my car. I was supposed to get the documents before he reached Victor Hale.””
“And?””
“James realized someone was following him.””
Thomas rubbed his forehead.
“He pulled into a gas station and called someone. I didn't know who. Then he got back on the road.””
I could barely breathe.
“Did you follow him onto the highway?””
“Yes.””
“Were you driving the dark sedan?””
Thomas nodded.
Marcus stood abruptly.
“You chased my father?””
“I wasn't trying to kill him!””
“Then why were you following him?””
“Because Richard promised me a bonus if I recovered the documents. He said James would eventually cooperate if he understood how serious things had become.””
Marcus stared at him.
“And the accident?””
Thomas's face crumpled.
“A truck lost control. It crossed the median and struck James's car. I was behind him. I saw everything.””
My hand flew to my mouth.
“Did you stop?””
Thomas began to cry.
“Yes.””
“Did you call for help?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn't you tell the police you had been following him?””
“Because Richard arrived before the investigators finished questioning witnesses. He told me that if I admitted what I'd done, they'd accuse me of causing the accident. He said he would make sure I went to prison.””
Thomas looked at Marcus.
“I was a coward. I let him frighten me.””
Marcus's voice was barely audible.
“Did Richard cause the accident?””
Thomas shook his head.
“I don't know. I never saw anyone deliberately hit your father's car. But I saw something else.””
He reached into his pocket and removed a folded photograph.
It showed the dark sedan parked behind a tow truck on the highway.
A man stood beside the wreckage.
Richard Reed.
Marcus stared at the picture.
“Why was my future father-in-law at the scene of my father's death?””
Thomas's eyes filled with tears.
“Because he was following me.””
The detective immediately took the photograph and placed it in an evidence sleeve.
Thomas continued.
“Richard arrived minutes after the collision. He told me to leave before the police noticed me. Then he took something from James's car.””
“What?”” Marcus demanded.
“A leather document case.””
My stomach twisted.
James had been carrying the evidence.
“Did Richard find it?”” I asked.
Thomas nodded.
“He took it to his office. I never saw it again.””
Marcus looked at Denise.
“Can we search his property?””
“We'll give this testimony and the photograph to the investigators. They'll determine what additional warrants are appropriate.””
Thomas lowered his head.
“I know I don't deserve forgiveness. But I need you to understand something. Richard didn't just steal your father's money.””
He looked directly at Marcus.
“He took the one document James was determined to protect.””
“What document?””
May you like
Thomas's answer made my blood run cold.
“The original birth record showing who Madison Reed's biological father was.””
