Chapter 8: The Dead Man Who Was Still Collecting Money
I stared at Rebecca.
“Your mother's first husband?””
She nodded.
“Michael Carter. I grew up believing he died in a house fire.””
Daniel opened his laptop.
“The account receiving the money was established under his name fourteen months ago.””
Rebecca shook her head.
“No. That's impossible.””
“Could someone else be using his identity?”” Daniel asked.
“Maybe. But I don't understand why Diane would send money to a dead man.””
I looked at the transaction records.
The account had received fourteen million dollars through several transfers.
The most recent transfer was dated three days earlier.
The same day my mother had damaged Lily's life jacket.
“Could the money have been moved because she knew the trust was about to be exposed?”” I asked.
Daniel nodded.
“That's our working theory.””
Rebecca stood and began pacing.
“There's something I haven't told you.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
“When I was a child, Michael used to visit our house.””
I frowned.
“I thought he was dead.””
“He disappeared when I was five. Diane told everyone he died in the fire. But I remember seeing him years later.””
“Where?””
“At a restaurant in Savannah. I was seventeen.””
Daniel closed his laptop.
“Are you certain?””
Rebecca nodded.
“He was older, but I recognized his face. He was sitting with Diane. When he saw me, he left immediately.””
“Did you tell anyone?””
“My mother. She told me I was imagining things.””
I sat down.
“Why would Diane keep meeting a man she claimed was dead?””
Rebecca looked at the financial records.
“Maybe because he wasn't dead.””
Daniel received another call.
He listened for several seconds, then asked the caller to repeat the information.
When he ended the call, his face was grave.
“The police have identified the account holder.””
“Who?”” I asked.
“Michael Carter.””
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“They found him?””
“Not yet. But they traced the account to a private residence in northern Georgia.””
“Where?””
“Near Lake Lanier.””
I looked at Rebecca.
“Can we find him?””
Daniel shook his head.
“The authorities are handling that part. We shouldn't interfere with an active investigation.””
But Rebecca wasn't listening.
She had taken a photograph from her handbag.
It showed a younger version of herself standing beside a man.
“That's him,” she whispered.
I examined the image.
The man had dark hair, a square jaw, and a small scar near his left eyebrow.
“Are you sure?””
Rebecca nodded.
“He was at my college graduation. He stood at the back of the room. I thought he was one of my father's business associates.””
“Did you speak to him?””
“No. But he left something in my car.””
She opened the photograph's envelope and removed a small note.
Three words were written on it.
*Ask about Diane.*
My skin prickled.
“Did you ever investigate?””
“I tried. But two days later, my apartment was broken into. Nothing valuable was taken. Only the photograph and the note disappeared.””
I looked at Daniel.
“Someone has been following Rebecca for years.””
He nodded.
“And that person may have been Michael Carter.””
Before we could continue, a police detective arrived.
Her name was Detective Laura Bennett.
She introduced herself and asked to speak with us privately.
“I've reviewed the footage from your swimming pool,” she said.
My stomach tightened.
“And?””
“We're treating the incident as a suspected deliberate attempt to endanger a child.””
I nodded.
“There's no doubt about what she did.””
“That's why I wanted to meet you. We recovered an object from your mother's handbag when she was questioned.””
She placed a photograph on the table.
It showed a small pair of medical scissors.
The same type visible in the security footage.
“Did she admit using them?”” I asked.
“No. She claimed they were for opening medication packaging.””
I looked at the photograph.
“What about the life jacket?””
“We recovered it from your home. The damaged areas are consistent with deliberate cuts.””
I closed my eyes.
Detective Bennett continued.
“We also discovered that someone accessed your home's security system remotely on the day of the incident.””
I looked at Monica, who had joined us by phone.
“Who?””
“The login belonged to an account registered under Evelyn Carter.””
Rebecca went pale.
“She had remote access?””
“Apparently.””
The detective placed another document on the table.
“We're also investigating the fraudulent custody petition and the financial documents.””
I leaned forward.
“Can you arrest her?””
“We need sufficient evidence for the charges we're pursuing. The forged documents are a separate matter.””
Rebecca spoke.
“What about Michael Carter?””
The detective looked at her.
“Why are you asking?””
Rebecca explained what she remembered.
Detective Bennett wrote everything down.
Then she closed her notebook.
“I want you both to understand something. If Michael Carter is alive and connected to the financial transactions, he may be central to this investigation.””
She stood.
“We'll contact you when we have more information.””
After she left, Daniel received an email.
He opened it.
His eyes widened.
“What is it?”” I asked.
He turned the screen toward us.
It was an old insurance policy.
Michael Carter had purchased a life insurance policy twenty-five years earlier.
The beneficiary was Diane Whitmore.
The policy had been paid out following his reported death.
But beneath the payout record was a recent amendment.
The insurance company had received a request to transfer the beneficiary information to another person.
A person named Evelyn Carter.
The date was two weeks earlier.
I looked at Rebecca.
“Why would someone change the beneficiary on a policy after the insured person supposedly died?””
Rebecca whispered, “Because the person might not be dead.””
Daniel called the insurance company.
After a lengthy conversation, he ended the call.
“They have a recent identity verification record.””
“Whose?”” I asked.
“Michael Carter's.””
Rebecca stood.
“Where is he?””
Daniel looked at the document.
“His identity was verified in person at a branch office six weeks ago.””
I felt sick.
A man officially declared dead twenty-four years ago had walked into a bank six weeks earlier and verified his identity.
And my mother had been transferring millions of dollars to him.
That evening, I returned home with Lily.
The hospital had discharged her after confirming she was stable.
Tasha stayed with us.
I had hired additional security, changed the access codes, and ordered new locks.
For the first time, the mansion felt less like a home and more like a fortress.
Lily was asleep upstairs when Monica knocked on my bedroom door.
“Mrs. Whitmore?””
“What is it?””
“There's someone at the front gate.””
“Who?””
She hesitated.
“He says his name is Michael Carter.””
My heart stopped.
I walked to the security monitor.
A man stood outside the gate.
Older.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
And a small scar near his left eyebrow.
It was the same man from Rebecca's photograph.
I called Detective Bennett.
Then I watched as the man raised his face toward the camera.
He spoke into the intercom.
“Jasmine, I know you have questions about Diane.””
I didn't answer.
He continued.
“But before you let the police take me away, you need to understand something.””
“What?””
He looked directly into the camera.
“Diane didn't steal your father's fortune alone.””
My blood ran cold.
“Who helped her?””
Michael's expression hardened.
“Your father.””
I stared at the screen.
“That is impossible.””
Michael leaned closer.
“Robert knew exactly where the money was going. He helped us build the accounts.””
My hands began shaking.
“Why?””
The man lowered his voice.
“Because the woman you call your mother was never supposed to inherit anything.””
He paused.
“Your father was protecting someone else.””
I swallowed.
“Who?””
Michael looked toward the house.
Then he said:
“His real wife.””
The intercom went silent.
And behind me, a voice whispered:
“Jasmine?””
I turned.
Rebecca stood at the top of the stairs.
Her face was completely white.
She had heard everything.
Then she spoke.
“Michael Carter isn't the man Diane married.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
Rebecca slowly descended the stairs.
“Because my mother's first husband wasn't named Michael Carter.””
She looked at the security monitor.
“His real name was Robert Whitmore.””
The room seemed to tilt.
My father.
The man who had supposedly died seven years earlier.
The man whose funeral I had attended.
The man whose letters I had just read.
May you like
Rebecca whispered:
“Jasmine, I think our father faked his death.””
