Chapter 6 - BROTHERSI pulled the folder away.
Mark stopped.
Detective Alvarez noticed.
“What did he say?”
I put Ryan on speaker.
“Say it again.”
Ryan went silent.
“Ryan.”
“The company receiving the money belongs to Mark.”
Mark laughed once.
“That's absurd.”
Ryan continued.
“Hale Meridian LLC.”
Mark's expression changed.
Tiny.
But enough.
Alvarez looked at him.
“Do you own Hale Meridian?”
“No.”
Ryan said:
“Ask him who owns the Delaware holding company above it.”
Mark stood.
“This is ridiculous.”
Alvarez's voice hardened.
“Sit down.”
Mark didn't.
Two officers appeared.
He sat.
I stared at him.
“You told me the money went to Ryan.”
“The paperwork says—”
“You lied.”
“I simplified.”
“Six hundred and forty thousand dollars is not simplifying.”
Ryan’s voice came through the phone.
“Clara, listen to me. Mom and Mark have been fighting over Dad’s estate for years.”
Mark snapped:
“Because you were too cowardly to fight her!”
“Maybe.”
Ryan sounded exhausted.
“But I didn't steal Noah’s money.”
I closed my eyes.
Nobody was trustworthy.
Linda.
Ryan.
Sarah.
Mark.
Everyone carried a different version.
Alvarez took the phone.
“Mr. Hale, we’ll continue through your attorney.”
Call ended.
Then he looked at Mark.
“You're staying.”
Mark laughed.
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I'm leaving.”
He walked out.
I watched him go.
Something bothered me.
If Mark wanted the folder, why bring it to police?
Unless he expected me to see only certain pages.
I opened it again.
Page by page.
Then found a torn edge near the binding.
Something had been removed.
One page.
Maybe more.
I looked toward the door.
Mark was gone.
And suddenly I understood.
He hadn't brought us evidence.
He had brought us a version of the evidence.
That night, Noah and I moved to a hotel under police recommendation.
Sarah came.
She brought Emily.
The children slept together in the adjoining room.
Sarah sat beside me.
“You think Mark is involved?”
“I think everyone is involved.”
“Including me?”
I looked at her.
“You handed over the padlock.”
She cried.
“I know.”
“You could have stopped her.”
“I know.”
“You could have called police.”
“I know.”
I wanted to hate her.
But guilt had already eaten half of her.
“Tell me everything about your father.”
Sarah looked up.
“Why?”
“Because all of this started with Thomas.”
She hesitated.
Then told me something no one had mentioned.
Three days before Thomas died, he had called Sarah.
“He sounded scared.”
“Of Linda?”
“I don't know.”
“He said he had made a terrible mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“He wouldn't tell me.”
“Anything else?”
Sarah nodded.
“He said if something happened to him, I should find Caroline.”
The aunt Linda destroyed.
“Where is she?”
“Nobody knows.”
“Find her.”
Sarah stared.
“You think she's alive?”
“I think your father wanted someone to find her.”
The next morning, Sarah called.
She had located Caroline.
Not in another state.
Not hiding overseas.
She lived forty minutes away.
Under her married name.
And when I called her, she said:
“I've been waiting six years for one of Thomas’s children to grow a spine.”
Then:
“Bring Clara.”
I froze.
“How do you know my name?”
May you like
Caroline laughed bitterly.
“Because Thomas knew Linda would eventually come after Noah.”
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