Chapter 5: What Angela Left Behind
Raymond's house was only fifteen minutes away.
It was a small brick home with a basketball hoop in the driveway and an old wooden swing on the porch.
Malik had spent countless weekends there with his uncle.
For the first time in days, I saw him relax.
Raymond made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. He let Malik choose a movie and didn't ask him a single question about Denise.
I watched them from the kitchen.
My brother had always been good with children.
He was the uncle who attended school plays, bought ridiculous birthday presents, and taught Malik how to shoot a basketball.
I trusted him.
Which made Denise's accusation even more disturbing.
After Malik went upstairs, I found Raymond washing dishes.
"Can we talk?""
He glanced over his shoulder.
"Sure.""
I leaned against the counter.
"Denise mentioned something about Angela's hospital stay.""
Raymond stopped washing.
"What did she say?""
"She said you know something about money Angela left behind.""
The water continued running.
Raymond slowly turned off the faucet.
For a moment, he didn't speak.
Then he dried his hands.
"Marcus, I was hoping you'd never have to deal with this.""
My stomach tightened.
"Deal with what?""
He pulled out a chair.
"Angela made me promise something before she died.""
I stared at him.
"What kind of promise?""
He looked toward the stairs to make sure Malik wasn't nearby.
"She asked me to keep an envelope safe. She said it was for Malik, and that I shouldn't give it to you until he was old enough to understand.""
I felt a strange mixture of anger and confusion.
"Why wouldn't she give it to me?""
"Because she was afraid.""
"Afraid of what?""
Raymond rubbed his forehead.
"She thought someone might try to take advantage of you while you were grieving.""
I stared at him.
"Who?""
He didn't answer.
Instead, he walked to a cabinet in the dining room and removed a small metal box.
He placed it on the table.
Inside was a sealed envelope bearing Angela's handwriting.
My name was written on the front.
Underneath it were five words.
*For Marcus. When the time comes.*
I touched the envelope.
The handwriting was unmistakably hers.
My throat tightened.
"How long have you had this?""
"Almost three years.""
"Three years?""
Raymond lowered his eyes.
"I know you're angry.""
"Angry? My wife left me something, and you've been sitting on it for three years?""
"She made me promise.""
"She's gone, Raymond!""
My voice echoed through the kitchen.
Raymond didn't argue.
He simply pushed the envelope closer.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a letter and several photocopied documents.
The letter began:
Marcus, if you're reading this, then something has happened that I hoped would never happen.
My eyes blurred.
I continued.
I know how much you love our son. I know you would do anything to protect him. But I need you to understand that sometimes the people who offer to help us are not always the people who have our best interests at heart.
I stopped reading.
Raymond sat opposite me.
"She wrote this shortly before she died," he explained.
I looked down again.
There is a small education fund for Malik. It was created using money from my mother's estate, and I made arrangements for it to remain separate from our household finances.
I turned to the documents.
The account contained a substantial amount of money.
Enough to pay for Malik's education through college.
But there was something else.
A document listed an authorized financial representative.
Denise Carter.
I stared at the name.
"Why is Denise on this?""
Raymond exhaled.
"She wasn't supposed to have access to the money.""
"Then why is her name here?""
"Angela met Denise through a community support program before you two started dating. Denise helped with paperwork when Angela was sick. She was familiar with the account.""
I felt sick.
"Angela knew Denise?""
"Yes.""
"How well?""
Raymond hesitated.
"Not well enough to trust her completely. That's why she asked me to protect the documents.""
I picked up the next page.
It was a bank notification showing that an attempted withdrawal had been made eight months earlier.
The request had been rejected because the account required Malik's legal guardian's authorization.
The name on the request was Denise Carter.
My hands began to shake.
"She tried to take Malik's money?""
Raymond nodded.
"That's why Angela wanted the account protected.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I didn't have the complete picture. I thought the attempt was a mistake. I didn't want to create problems while you were grieving.""
I stood and paced across the kitchen.
"She married me. She moved into my home. She became part of my son's life.""
"I know.""
"And she had access to all this?""
"Not the money. But she knew it existed.""
I stopped.
"What did Angela say about her?""
Raymond took a breath.
"She told me Denise had been asking questions about Malik's inheritance. She thought Denise was too interested in his future financial arrangements.""
I stared at the letter.
The words seemed to blur.
My wife had recognized something I had missed.
A warning.
A danger.
A woman I had welcomed into our home.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Malik appeared in the doorway.
"Uncle Raymond?""
Raymond quickly covered the documents.
"Hey, buddy. Everything okay?""
Malik looked at me.
"Can I talk to Dad alone?""
I nodded.
Raymond went upstairs.
Malik pulled out a chair and sat down.
His hands were trembling.
"Dad, I need to tell you something.""
I moved beside him.
"Go ahead.""
He looked at the documents on the table.
"Kayla said Denise was looking for something in Grandma's papers.""
"What papers?""
"She said there was money Mom left me.""
My stomach tightened.
"Did she tell you how much?""
Malik shook his head.
"She said it was supposed to belong to me, but Dad wouldn't give it to her.""
I stared at him.
"Did she ask you for anything?""
He hesitated.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny folded piece of paper.
It was a handwritten note.
The handwriting wasn't Malik's.
It read:
*If you want your father to stay married to Mom, give me the silver key. Otherwise, I'll tell him what you did to Kayla.*
I read it twice.
Then I looked at my son.
"Who gave you this?""
"Denise.""
"When?""
"Last week.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because she said she'd show you a video.""
"What video?""
Malik's face went pale.
He looked toward the staircase.
Then he whispered:
"She said she recorded me and Kayla in her bedroom. She said everyone would think I was hurting her.""
I felt a cold wave move through my body.
"Did you ever go into Kayla's bedroom?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
He swallowed.
"Because she told me Mom's necklace was there. I wanted to get it back.""
I held his hands.
"Did you touch her?""
"No, Dad. I swear.""
He began crying.
"She started screaming when I came in. Denise came running. She said she had everything on camera, but I never saw a camera.""
I pulled him into my arms.
"You're safe. I'm going to make sure we handle this properly.""
But Malik wasn't finished.
He pulled away and looked directly into my eyes.
"Dad, there's something else.""
"What is it?""
"Kayla told me she didn't want to do it anymore.""
My heart began pounding.
"Do what?""
"Help her mother.""
I stared at him.
"Help her mother with what?""
Malik looked down.
"She said Denise made her lie about me.""
Before I could respond, Raymond came rushing down the stairs.
He was holding his phone.
"Marcus, you need to see this.""
He placed it on the table.
An incoming message had appeared from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Denise standing outside Raymond's house.
The timestamp was from three minutes earlier.
May you like
Underneath it were eight words.
*Send Malik home, or I'll tell everyone everything.*
