Chapter 4: Three Days After the Funeral
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?””
My voice barely carried across the room.
Officer Daniels kept the document flat on the desk.
“Do you recognize this account?””
I looked at the numbers.
“No.””
“Do you recognize the institution?””
“Yes.””
It was the same bank my father had used for almost everything.
I remembered sitting beside him at the kitchen table while he sorted bills into neat piles.
He had trusted that bank.
So had I.
Laura stood beside me.
“Where did the money go?””
Daniels traced the transaction line without touching it.
“The destination account is partially listed.””
Ryan interrupted.
“That paper proves nothing.””
Officer Ruiz tightened his grip on Ryan’s arm.
“Sir, you’ve been told to remain quiet.””
Ryan ignored him.
“Emily, your father had dozens of investments. You know that.””
I looked at him.
“How do you know?””
His mouth closed.
“You said you only knew of him.””
“I heard things.””
“From whom?””
“People.””
“What people?””
“Business contacts.””
“Name one.””
Ryan looked away.
Laura crossed her arms.
“He can’t.””
Ryan turned toward her.
“You think you’re innocent in all this?””
Laura’s face tightened.
“What is that supposed to mean?””
“You signed documents too.””
“Documents you told me were for our future.””
“You still signed them.””
Laura stared at him.
“So that’s your defense?””
“My defense is that both of you benefited from me.””
I felt something inside me go completely still.
“Benefited?””
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“Who paid the taxes on this house? Who handled the investments? Who made sure you never had to worry about anything?””
“My father left me this house without a mortgage.””
Ryan’s eyes flashed.
“And you would’ve lost everything eventually.””
Officer Daniels raised a hand.
“Enough.””
But Ryan couldn’t stop.
Maybe panic had finally broken whatever control he had left.
“You had no idea what Thomas built.””
I stared at him.
“You called him Thomas.””
Silence.
Ryan froze.
Not “your father.””
Not “Mr. Bennett.””
Thomas.
Laura slowly turned toward him.
“You knew him.””
Ryan’s face went blank.
I stepped closer.
“How well?””
“Emily—”
“How well did you know my father?””
Officer Daniels moved slightly between us.
Ryan looked toward the window.
Then the desk.
Then me.
“I met him twice.””
My breath caught.
“When?””
“Before we met.””
Laura whispered, “Oh my God.””
I could barely speak.
“Where?””
Ryan rubbed his mouth.
“At his office.””
“Why?””
“I was looking for investors.””
“You told me you were working in insurance back then.””
“I was doing several things.””
“What did my father say?””
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
“He said no.””
The answer came too quickly to be invented.
I knew my father.
A direct refusal would have wounded Ryan’s pride.
“What did you ask him for?””
“Money.””
“How much?””
Ryan didn’t answer.
Laura stepped closer.
“How much, Ryan?””
“Half a million.””
I stared at him.
“My father refused to give you half a million dollars.””
“It wasn’t like that.””
“What was it like?””
“I had a business plan.””
“And he rejected you.””
Ryan’s eyes hardened.
“He humiliated me.””
There it was.
For the first time all afternoon, Ryan stopped sounding frightened.
“He sat behind that huge desk and acted like I was some kid asking for lunch money.””
My skin prickled.
“What did he say?””
Ryan looked directly at me.
“He said I was a man who wanted shortcuts.””
I almost smiled.
That sounded exactly like Dad.
Then Ryan added, “He said men like me eventually steal from people who trust them.””
Laura let out a stunned breath.
My father had seen him clearly.
Years before I had.
Officer Daniels looked at the payment document again.
“And three days after Mr. Bennett died, you received money connected to his holdings?””
Ryan’s face tightened.
“I didn’t say I received it.””
“You just said the document was meaningless before anyone identified the destination.””
Ryan went silent.
Daniels turned to Ruiz.
“Cuff him.””
Ryan jerked backward.
“Wait.””
Officer Ruiz pulled one wrist behind his back.
Metal clicked.
“Emily!””
I didn’t move.
The second cuff closed.
Ryan twisted toward me.
“Tell them this is a misunderstanding.””
I looked at the red marks around my wrist.
Then at Laura.
Then at the marriage certificate.
“No.””
His expression collapsed.
“Please.””
Laura walked to the bedroom door and opened it.
“You should’ve thought about forgiveness before building your life out of other people’s signatures.””
The officers led him into the hallway.
Ryan kept looking back at me.
“Emily, listen to me!””
I followed them to the top of the stairs.
“Why?””
“Because you don’t know everything!””
“Then tell me.””
He stopped.
Officer Ruiz tried to move him.
Ryan resisted just enough to turn around.
“That payment didn’t come to me.””
Officer Daniels frowned.
“What?””
Ryan’s face was wet with sweat.
“I never received that $250,000.””
“Then who did?””
Ryan looked at me.
“You really don’t know, do you?””
My stomach tightened.
“Know what?””
He gave a broken laugh.
“Your father wasn’t the only person running Bennett Property Holdings.””
Officer Daniels stared at him.
“Who else?””
Ryan shook his head.
“I want a lawyer.””
Then he allowed them to take him downstairs.
Laura and I stood silently at the top of the staircase as the front door closed behind them.
Neither of us spoke for nearly a minute.
Finally Laura said, “Do you believe him?””
“I don’t know.””
She looked toward the office.
“About the money?””
“No.””
“About the company?””
I thought of my childhood.
My father working late.
Closed-door meetings.
Phone calls that ended when I entered the room.
There had always been accountants, attorneys, property managers.
But one person had been around more than anyone else.
Someone Dad trusted enough to keep a key to his office.
Someone who handled paperwork after his death.
My phone rang.
The sound made both of us jump.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A woman spoke.
“Is this Emily Bennett Carter?””
“Yes.””
“My name is Rebecca Shaw. I’m calling from First Heritage Bank’s fraud department.””
Laura stepped closer.
My pulse quickened.
“What’s happened?””
There was a pause.
“Mrs. Carter, police contacted us regarding an account connected to your late father.””
I gripped the phone.
“Okay.””
“We’ve located the original account holder.””
I frowned.
“My father?””
“No.””
Every hair on my arms rose.
The woman continued.
“The account is still active.””
“That’s impossible.””
“Mrs. Carter, do you know a woman named Margaret Bennett?””
The hallway seemed to disappear around me.
Laura touched my shoulder.
I couldn’t breathe.
Because Margaret Bennett wasn’t an accountant.
She wasn’t my father’s attorney.
May you like
She was my mother.
And she had supposedly died when I was nine.
