Chapter 8: What Rachel Was Really Doing
Nobody spoke.
Rachel's confession seemed to hang between us.
I could hear my own heartbeat.
"You were supposed to get my mother out?""
Rachel nodded once.
"Why?""
Thomas smiled.
"Because Evelyn is the trustee.""
"Let Rachel answer.""
His smile disappeared.
Rachel wiped her cheeks.
"Thomas told me your mother had stolen control of money that belonged to you.""
Mom whispered, "Rachel...""
"I believed him.""
"Why?""
Rachel looked at me.
"Because I already knew about the trust.""
The words hurt more than I expected.
"Since before we married?""
"No.""
"Linda said you knew.""
"Linda assumed I knew.""
Thomas scoffed.
Rachel turned on him.
"You told me Daniel controlled millions.""
"Because that's what George told me.""
"You told me marrying Daniel would fix everything.""
There it was.
The sentence I had been dreading.
I stared at her.
"So you did marry me for money.""
Rachel closed her eyes.
"At first...""
Mom inhaled sharply.
I felt strangely calm.
Maybe because some betrayals are too large for immediate anger.
"Finish that sentence.""
Rachel opened her eyes.
"At first, I approached you because of your family.""
I nodded slowly.
"The fundraiser.""
"Yes.""
"Spilling the champagne.""
"Planned.""
"Our first date?""
"No.""
"What does that mean?""
"It means I expected one conversation.""
She stepped closer.
"I expected you to be arrogant. Entitled. Like Thomas described your father.""
"Don't.""
"But you weren't.""
"Rachel.""
"You drove me home because my heel broke. You stopped at that terrible diner because I said I was hungry. You spent twenty minutes helping the waitress clean up after someone knocked over a tray.""
My throat tightened because I remembered.
"You weren't supposed to be kind.""
"That doesn't make this better.""
"I know.""
"Six years, Rachel.""
"I know.""
"You let me build my life around a lie.""
She began crying.
"I loved you.""
"Maybe.""
"I still do.""
"Love doesn't send my mother to wash dishes because you're trying to force her out of a trust.""
Rachel looked toward Mom.
"No. That's not why tonight happened.""
I laughed.
"Then enlighten me.""
Her face crumpled.
"Because I was angry.""
"At a seventy-eight-year-old woman?""
"At myself.""
"That makes no sense.""
"I'd spent months doing what Thomas wanted. Pressuring Evelyn. Leaving chores. Showing her facilities.""
Mom looked down.
Rachel's voice broke.
"Every time I did it, I hated myself.""
"So you kept doing it?""
"Because Thomas had something on me.""
Thomas's expression changed.
Rachel saw it.
"Tell him.""
He closed the briefcase.
"Rachel, that's enough.""
"No.""
For the first time that night, she didn't sound afraid.
"Tell him what you threatened me with.""
Thomas stepped toward her.
I moved between them.
"Stay there.""
He stopped.
Rachel reached into her purse.
She removed a small flash drive.
Thomas's face went white.
"Give me that.""
"No.""
He moved.
I blocked him.
"Try it.""
Thomas stared at me.
Then stepped back.
Rachel held out the drive.
"This contains copies of everything Thomas sent me.""
"What things?""
"Emails. Bank records. Instructions.""
"For forcing Mom out?""
"Yes.""
Mom sat slowly.
Rachel continued.
"He wanted Evelyn declared mentally incompetent.""
My stomach turned.
"He told me if we could establish that she was confused, physically weak, unable to manage finances, the trust could be challenged.""
I looked at Mom.
"That's why the chores?""
Rachel nodded miserably.
"If she complained she couldn't manage them, Thomas wanted photographs and messages showing she was struggling.""
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"And the assisted-living facility?""
"Another piece of evidence.""
Mom whispered, "You were building a case against me.""
Rachel began sobbing.
"Yes.""
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me did.
But another question remained.
"What did Thomas have on you?""
She looked at the flash drive.
"Proof that I knew who you were before we met.""
"That's already out.""
"More than that.""
She swallowed.
"Proof I helped him years ago.""
Thomas said sharply, "Rachel.""
She ignored him.
"Before Thomas went to prison, he asked me to deliver envelopes.""
Linda closed her eyes.
"Oh, Rachel.""
"I was twenty-two. I didn't ask questions.""
"What was in them?"" I asked.
"Cash.""
"How much?""
"I don't know.""
"Try.""
"Maybe two hundred thousand altogether.""
I stared at her.
"You helped him hide stolen money.""
"Yes.""
"And he threatened to expose you?""
"Yes.""
Thomas laughed quietly.
"Very touching.""
Rachel turned.
"You recorded every conversation.""
"So did you, apparently.""
"You threatened my husband.""
"I offered you a solution.""
"You told me if I didn't get Evelyn removed, you'd send everything to Daniel and the police.""
Thomas shrugged.
"You made your choice.""
Rachel suddenly smiled through her tears.
It wasn't happiness.
It was realization.
"No.""
Thomas frowned.
"I made yours.""
She looked at me.
"The flash drive isn't the only copy.""
Thomas's face changed.
Rachel continued.
"I sent everything to an attorney this afternoon.""
"What attorney?""
"Your father's old attorney.""
Mom stood.
"Mr. Bennett?""
Rachel nodded.
"And he found something.""
Thomas moved toward the porch.
Linda blocked him.
"Where are you going?""
"Home.""
Rachel laughed.
"You don't have one.""
His face darkened.
She pulled a folded paper from her purse.
"This is why I came back tonight.""
She handed it to me.
I opened it.
A forensic accounting summary.
Several highlighted transfers appeared across the page.
Dates.
Account numbers.
Trust references.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Thomas Vale.
But another name appeared beside his.
I looked closer.
My stomach dropped.
"No.""
Mom stepped beside me.
"What is it?""
I couldn't answer.
Because the second name wasn't Rachel's.
It wasn't Linda's.
It belonged to someone I trusted more than either of them.
Someone who had supposedly been dead for six years.
GEORGE CARTER.
My father.
Rachel whispered,
"Daniel... I don't think your father died with all his secrets buried.""
I stared at the last transaction date.
May you like
Three months ago.
And beneath it was a withdrawal authorization bearing my father's name.
