Chapter 9
Margaret was missing for almost eighteen hours.
Those were the longest hours of Ethan’s life.
I could see it every time he looked at his phone.
Whatever she had done, she was still his mother.
I understood that.
I hated that I understood.
Because caring about someone did not disappear when they became dangerous.
Sometimes it only became more painful.
Police tested the blood from our office.
It did not belong to Margaret.
It belonged to a man.
No match in the immediate database.
Ethan looked sick.
“Who was in our house?”
Detective Hale had no answer yet.
Then the flash drive from my father’s workshop was opened.
Most files were old.
Bank transfers.
Trust records.
Emails printed and scanned.
But one folder was newer.
Created only six years earlier.
A year before my father died.
I stared at Hale.
“How could it contain newer files if Robert died sixteen years ago?”
“Your father added them.”
“Why?”
“Apparently he continued watching the Hartwell accounts.”
My heart tightened.
“Without telling me?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
Another man protecting people through secrets.
I loved my father.
But I suddenly understood something painful.
Good intentions did not make secrecy harmless.
“What did he find?”
“Transfers resumed.”
“When?”
“About seven years ago.”
“To Hart Financial?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“Different family accounts.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Mom.”
Hale looked at him.
“Possibly.”
“And the files from six years ago?”
“One contains a list of names.”
“What names?”
“People who received money.”
Ethan stood.
“Who?”
Hale looked at him.
“Your mother.”
“Obviously.”
“Your former accountant.”
Ethan frowned.
“Charles?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Hale looked at Rachel, who had been asked to come in that afternoon.
She stiffened.
“What?”
“Rachel Morgan.”
The room went silent.
Rachel’s face drained.
“No.”
Ethan stared at her.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Your name is on the list.”
“I didn’t take anything.”
Detective Hale remained calm.
“Ms. Morgan, sit down.”
Rachel shook her head.
“I swear.”
“How much?” Ethan demanded.
Hale answered.
“One hundred and twenty thousand dollars.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
“No.”
“Transferred over three years.”
“I never received that.”
“An account in your name did.”
“I don’t have that account.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“Everyone suddenly has mystery accounts.”
Rachel glared at him.
“You think I stole from you?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“You accused Daniel for years.”
“And apparently I was wrong.”
“You cheated on your wife.”
“Do not bring Emily into this.”
Rachel laughed.
“She is already in everything because of you.”
“Enough,” I said.
They stopped.
I was tired of being the center of other people’s guilt.
Detective Hale asked Rachel whether she had ever opened an account with Lakefront National Bank.
“No.”
“Did you ever sign documents for Margaret Hartwell?”
Rachel hesitated.
Ethan saw it.
“What?”
“Years ago.”
“How many years?”
“Twelve.”
“For what?”
“She said she wanted to repay part of my investment in Ethan’s company.”
Ethan frowned.
“Mom paid you?”
“No. She said she might.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“A tax form.”
Hale leaned forward.
“Do you have a copy?”
“No.”
“Did you provide identification?”
“Yes.”
Everything became clear.
Margaret had Rachel’s information.
Enough to create an account.
Rachel sat back.
“Oh my God.”
“Why would she use me?”
Daniel answered.
“Because you were connected to Ethan.”
Rachel stared at him.
“And because if anyone ever found the transfers, they would blame me.”
Daniel nodded.
“Welcome to the club.”
For the first time, Rachel looked at Daniel with understanding.
Margaret had built an entire system around blame.
Daniel.
Rachel.
Possibly Ethan.
Possibly me.
Anyone but herself.
Then Hale’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“Where?”
Everyone went silent.
“Yes.”
He hung up.
“We found Margaret.”
Ethan stood.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief flooded his face.
“Where?”
“A motel outside Joliet.”
“Was she hurt?”
“No.”
“Then whose blood was in our house?”
Hale looked grim.
“She was not alone.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who was with her?”
“Charles Benson.”
Ethan’s former accountant.
The man whose name appeared on my father’s records.
“What happened?”
“According to Margaret, Charles came to your house after she did.”
“Why?”
“She called him.”
“For what?”
“To help retrieve documents.”
I felt sick.
“So she broke into our house?”
“She used a key.”
I looked at Ethan.
He closed his eyes.
“My mother has a spare.”
Of course she did.
I almost laughed.
Every woman connected to Ethan apparently had a key to my house except me emotionally.
“What happened to Charles?”
“There was an argument.”
“And the blood?”
“Margaret says Charles cut his arm on a broken drawer.”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
Ethan frowned.
“She left him bleeding?”
“According to her, he left first.”
“Do you believe her?”
“We are verifying.”
Margaret was taken into custody for questioning.
Ethan asked to see her.
Detective Hale advised him not to.
He went anyway.
I did not stop him.
He came back two hours later looking destroyed.
“What happened?”
He sat across from me.
“She admitted it.”
My chest tightened.
“The money?”
“Some.”
“How much?”
“Six million.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Some.”
Ethan looked at his brother.
“She says Dad started it.”
Daniel’s face hardened.
“Of course she does.”
“She says he created Hart Financial.”
“He may have.”
“What?”
Daniel stood.
“He may have created the shell company originally.”
Ethan stared.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Daniel laughed.
“You mean why did I keep a family secret?”
Ethan went silent.
Daniel continued.
“Maybe we all learned from the same people.”
That ended the argument.
Ethan looked at me.
“Mom says Dad used the company to hide money from her.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is at least an improvement.”
He almost smiled.
It disappeared immediately.
“She also said something about the trust.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“That the money I received at thirty-five wasn’t supposed to go to me.”
“What?”
Daniel stopped moving.
“What did she say?”
Ethan looked at him.
“That Dad changed the beneficiary before he died.”
Daniel’s face went white.
“To who?”
“Mom says she doesn’t know.”
“She’s lying.”
“Probably.”
“Why does it matter now?”
Ethan looked toward me.
“Because if the trust payment was improper, someone can demand it back.”
My heart dropped.
“How much is left?”
“About four hundred thousand.”
“What happened to the rest?”
“Business startup. House. Investments. Taxes.”
Rachel whispered, “And me.”
Ethan nodded.
“And Rachel.”
I thought of the trust.
The reason our wedding date moved quickly.
The money Ethan never told me about.
The money that had infected our marriage before we even said vows.
“If they demand it back, what happens?”
Ethan looked exhausted.
“I may have to sell my share of everything.”
Including our house.
My house.
Sophie’s home.
I looked at Laura.
She answered before I asked.
“Your separate contribution can be traced.”
“My father’s thirty thousand?”
“Yes.”
“And my share?”
“We will protect what we can.”
“What about Rachel’s lien?”
“Secondary to some claims, potentially.”
Rachel raised her hand.
“I’ll release it.”
Everyone looked at her.
“What?” Ethan asked.
She swallowed.
“I’ll release the lien.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because I don’t want Sophie losing her home because of something between Ethan and me.”
I stared at her.
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You slept with my fiancé.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I know.”
“You came into my house.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe you could take everything.”
“I was angry.”
“At me?”
“No.”
She looked at Ethan.
“At him.”
Ethan lowered his eyes.
Rachel continued.
“I wanted him scared.”
“And you didn’t care if I was scared too.”
“No.”
She started crying.
“I was selfish.”
I appreciated the word.
Not confused.
Not complicated.
Selfish.
“I can’t forgive you right now.”
“I understand.”
“But release the lien.”
“I will.”
Laura made a note.
“We’ll document it properly.”
Rachel nodded.
That should have been one small piece of good news.
Then Detective Hale returned.
He was holding a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a phone.
“Whose?” Ethan asked.
“Charles Benson’s.”
“Where did you find it?”
“In Margaret’s motel room.”
Everyone went silent.
“Why did she have his phone?”
“She claims he left it.”
Daniel laughed.
“Sure.”
Hale continued.
“There’s a video on it.”
My pulse jumped.
“What kind of video?”
“Recorded inside your house.”
I felt cold.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Show me.”
Hale hesitated.
“Emily.”
“It is my house.”
Laura nodded.
“Let her see.”
The video began shakily.
Charles was holding the phone.
He entered our office.
Margaret stood near my father’s desk.
She was angry.
“You said the second compartment was empty.”
Charles answered.
“It was.”
“You checked?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is Robert’s copy?”
“I don’t know.”
Margaret slammed a drawer.
“We need it before Daniel finds it.”
Charles laughed.
“Daniel already knows enough.”
“He knows nothing.”
“He knows about Ethan.”
Margaret froze.
So did everyone watching.
On the recording, Margaret lowered her voice.
“What about Ethan?”
Charles replied.
“That Robert changed the trust.”
My husband went completely still beside me.
Margaret stepped closer to Charles.
“He doesn’t know why.”
“Not yet.”
“And he never will.”
Then Charles said one sentence.
“The DNA test is still in the file.”
Ethan whispered, “DNA test?”
On the video, Margaret lunged toward Charles.
The phone fell.
There was shouting.
A crash.
Then the video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Ethan looked at his brother.
“What DNA test?”
Daniel had gone pale.
“Daniel.”
His brother looked at him.
“I think I know.”
“What?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Dad told me something before he died.”
“Tell me.”
“I thought he was confused.”
“Tell me!”
Daniel looked at Ethan.
Then at Margaret’s frozen image on the screen.
“Robert said there was a reason Mom was so desperate to keep control of the trust.”
Ethan’s hands shook.
“What reason?”
May you like
Daniel spoke quietly.
“Because he didn’t think you were his biological son.”
