Chapter 7: My Father’s Warning
I ran to the open front door.
“Aunt Susan!””
The street was empty except for the patrol car parked at the curb.
The officer who had been standing near the driveway turned toward me.
“Everything okay?””
“My aunt is gone.””
His eyebrows pulled together.
“Gone where?””
“I don’t know. She was inside thirty seconds ago.””
Laura came up behind me holding my father’s letter.
“She left through the front door.””
The officer looked toward the side of the house.
“I didn’t see her pass me.””
A chill ran through me.
“Then how did she leave?””
We searched the house.
Kitchen.
Bedrooms.
Garage.
Backyard.
Nothing.
Then the second officer found a narrow gate behind the detached garage. It opened into an alley running behind the neighboring houses.
Susan’s car was still in the driveway.
“She left on foot,” Laura said.
“Or someone was waiting for her,” I replied.
The officer asked whether Susan might be in danger.
I looked at the letter in Laura’s hand.
“I don’t know anymore.””
We returned to the dining room.
The metal case remained open.
I took my father’s letter and forced myself to continue reading.
Do not trust Susan.
She loves you, but fear has always been stronger than her loyalty.
If she gives you this letter voluntarily, then perhaps she has finally chosen differently.
If you found it without her help, leave immediately.
I stopped.
Laura read over my shoulder.
“Well, she gave it to you.””
“Then ran.””
“That’s the part I don’t like.””
Neither did I.
I continued.
Your mother discovered that money was being removed from Bennett Property Holdings through loans secured against properties whose owners did not know their names were being used.
My stomach tightened.
Ryan had done exactly that to Laura and me.
Not something similar.
The same thing.
My father’s letter continued.
Margaret believed the theft required someone with access to signatures, account numbers, property records, and family information. We initially suspected an employee.
We were wrong.
I looked at Laura.
She whispered, “Keep reading.””
The next paragraph was shorter.
Susan introduced him to us.
No name.
Just him.
I read the sentence again.
Susan introduced him to us.
My mind flashed back to Ryan’s photograph.
Young.
Smiling.
Standing beside my parents.
I heard Susan’s voice from less than an hour earlier.
He worked for Margaret.
My father’s letter said something different.
Your aunt brought him into our lives.
“Oh my God.””
Laura understood at the same moment.
“Susan knew Ryan before your parents did.””
I searched through the metal case.
There were dozens of photographs.
Receipts.
Old business cards.
A small leather ledger.
Laura opened it.
Rows of handwritten numbers filled the pages.
Dates.
Initials.
Amounts.
One set of initials appeared repeatedly.
M.B.
Another appeared beside it.
S.B.
Margaret Bennett.
Susan Bennett.
Laura pointed to a third set.
“R.C.””
Ryan Carter.
My mouth went dry.
The entries started fifteen years ago.
Ryan had been receiving payments from someone connected to my family long before he supposedly met me.
Then I found a photograph that made me stop.
Susan and Ryan stood outside a restaurant.
Ryan looked young.
Susan’s arm was around him.
On the back was written:
Ryan’s 21st.
Laura stared at it.
“She knew him years before your parents did.””
My phone rang.
Officer Daniels.
I answered immediately.
“Officer?””
“Mrs. Carter, I need to ask you something. Are you still at your aunt’s residence?””
“Yes.””
“Stay there.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why?””
“We’ve been reviewing the documents recovered from your house.””
“What did you find?””
“Ryan’s attorney has arrived, so questioning has stopped. But before that happened, he made one statement we were able to document.””
I waited.
Daniels continued.
“He claims he didn’t create the original fraud structure.””
“What does that mean?””
“He says he copied it.””
Laura moved closer.
“Copied it from whom?””
“He refused to give a name.””
Of course.
I looked at the ledger.
“Officer Daniels, I found records connecting Ryan to my aunt fifteen years ago.””
Silence.
“Do not remove anything from the house.””
“I won’t.””
“We’ll send someone.””
I looked toward the open front door.
“There’s another problem.””
“What?””
“Susan disappeared.””
Daniels’s voice sharpened.
“Disappeared?””
I explained.
When I finished, he said, “Lock the doors. Officers will remain outside.””
The call ended.
Laura sat at the table.
“This started before Ryan.””
“I know.””
“That means arresting him doesn’t end it.””
“I know.””
I hated how frightened my voice sounded.
Laura reached deeper into the case.
“What’s this?””
She pulled out a small envelope.
Inside was an old safe-deposit key and a card from First Heritage Bank.
The same bank Rebecca Shaw had called from.
A number was written on the card.
417.
Laura looked at me.
“Tomorrow morning suddenly became more interesting.””
Before I could answer, headlights swept across the front windows.
I froze.
A dark sedan stopped across the street.
The officers outside immediately moved toward it.
The driver’s door opened.
A woman stepped out.
She was tall and thin, wearing a dark coat despite the warm evening.
Gray streaked her hair.
I couldn’t see her face clearly.
But something about the way she stood made my chest ache.
The woman didn’t approach.
She simply stared at Susan’s house.
One of the officers called to her.
She stepped backward.
Then she turned and hurried toward the driver’s door.
I ran outside.
“Wait!””
The woman stopped.
Slowly, she looked over her shoulder.
The porch light touched her face.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar along her jaw.
But I knew those eyes.
I had seen them every morning of my childhood.
“Mom?””
The woman’s face crumpled.
May you like
And after twenty-seven years of being dead, my mother whispered my name.
“Emily.””
