Chapter 4
I called the number immediately.
It went to voicemail.
There was no greeting.
I sent a message instead.
Who is this?
No answer came.
Megan sat beside me on the edge of the bed.
“Could it be Daniel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who else would know about the money?”
“Barbara. Aaron. Maybe someone from Daniel’s company.”
My phone vibrated.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Daniel standing beside a blue pickup truck outside a small motel.
A newspaper machine in the background displayed a date from three days earlier.
Daniel had not disappeared.
He was alive.
And he was close.
Beneath the picture was an address.
Room 17. Come alone at 8 a.m. If Aaron follows you, I leave.
Megan read the message.
“You are not going alone.”
“They may disappear if I don’t.”
“You have a child upstairs. You don’t walk into a motel room because a stranger ordered you to.”
She was right.
But the address might lead to the truth.
I forwarded the messages to Detective Ortiz.
She responded within five minutes.
Do not go without law enforcement. I’ll meet you nearby at 7:45.
At seven, Chloe woke from a nightmare.
She sat up screaming that Grandma was at the door.
I held her until she understood where she was.
“Grandma can’t come inside,” I promised.
“What about Daddy?”
The question hurt more.
“Daddy can’t come in either.”
“Is he mad at me?”
“No, sweetheart.”
“He looked mad.”
“He made bad choices. None of them were your fault.”
Chloe picked at the blanket.
“Grandma said Daddy would lose the house if I told you.”
I kept my voice steady.
“When did she say that?”
“Yesterday.”
“What else did she say?”
“That you would send Daddy away.”
“Did Daddy hear her?”
Chloe nodded.
“He said, ‘Just listen to Grandma for one night.’”
I closed my eyes.
Aaron had not merely failed to protect her.
He had asked her to endure it.
At 7:30, Megan stayed with Chloe while I drove toward the motel.
Detective Ortiz waited in an unmarked car across the street.
A second detective sat beside her.
“You won’t enter alone,” she said. “If Daniel is inside, we need to know whether he’s armed or being threatened.”
“I don’t think he’ll hurt me.”
“You also didn’t think your husband would steal your trust.”
The words were blunt.
I needed them to be.
At eight, Detective Ortiz knocked on Room 17.
No one answered.
She knocked again.
“Daniel Cross? Police.”
The curtain moved.
Then the door opened three inches.
Aaron’s brother looked ten years older than the last time I had seen him.
His hair was long.
His cheeks were hollow.
He stared at me.
“You brought police.”
“You sent me proof you were alive.”
“I sent it because I need Rachel to listen.”
“You can speak with us present,” Detective Ortiz said.
Daniel looked toward the parking lot.
“If Barbara knows where I am, I’m dead.”
My skin prickled.
“Why?”
He let us inside.
The room smelled of coffee and cigarette smoke.
Files covered the bed.
A laptop sat open on the small table.
Daniel locked the door behind us.
“I didn’t steal the trust money,” he said.
“Then who did?”
“Barbara.”
I thought of his failed construction company.
“Aaron said he invested it with you.”
“Aaron lies when he’s afraid.”
“And he’s afraid of your mother?”
Daniel gave a humorless laugh.
“Everyone is.”
He opened a spreadsheet.
It showed a series of transfers from something called the William Harper Family Trust.
The first transfer was for $300,000.
The second was for $500,000.
The largest was $750,000.
All three moved through Daniel’s company.
Then, within days, most of the money went to an LLC called Bellington Holdings.
“Who owns that?” I asked.
“On paper? Nobody you know. In reality, Barbara.”
He displayed incorporation records.
Bellington Holdings was registered through a lawyer named Thomas Kline.
I knew that name.
He had handled my father’s estate.
“Thomas told me the trust was worthless,” I said.
“Because Barbara paid him.”
Detective Ortiz studied the records.
“How did Mrs. Cross gain access to the trust?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Through Aaron.”
My stomach turned.
“He forged my signature?”
“Not exactly.”
Daniel took out a scanned document.
At the bottom was my signature.
It looked real.
Then I recognized the page.
Four months after Dad died, Aaron had brought home a stack of insurance forms.
He placed small yellow tabs beside each signature line.
I had signed them while making dinner.
One of those pages had not been an insurance form.
It was a power of attorney.
“I signed this,” I whispered.
“You signed the final page,” Daniel said. “Aaron replaced everything before it.”
Detective Ortiz photographed the document.
“Why did the money pass through your company?”
“My mother told me she had found investors. She used the trust money to make my company appear profitable, then transferred it back out. When the contracts failed, she blamed me.”
“But why hide the money?”
Daniel sat down.
“Because she is planning to leave.”
I stared at him.
“Leave where?”
“Portugal. She bought a house there under Bellington Holdings.”
“That’s why she needs Rachel’s signature?” Ortiz asked.
“Partly. The bank started an internal review. Barbara needs Rachel to sign a statement saying the transfers were authorized investments.”
“And if I refuse?”
“The bank freezes everything.”
My phone rang.
Aaron.
I declined the call.
It rang again.
Then Daniel’s phone began vibrating.
He looked at the screen and went pale.
“She found me.”
“How?” Detective Ortiz asked.
“I don’t know.”
Someone knocked on the motel door.
Three sharp knocks.
Then Aaron’s voice came from outside.
“Daniel, open the door.”
Daniel backed away.
“I told you he’d follow.”
“I didn’t tell him anything.”
Aaron knocked again.
“Rachel, I know you’re in there.”
Detective Ortiz motioned for everyone to remain silent.
Aaron tried the handle.
“Daniel, Mom is willing to fix this.”
Daniel whispered, “That means she wants the files.”
Detective Ortiz opened the door suddenly.
Aaron nearly fell into the room.
He stopped when he saw her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked me.
I held up the power of attorney.
“Finding out what you did.”
His gaze moved to Daniel.
“You contacted her?”
Daniel stepped forward.
“She deserved the truth.”
“You don’t know the truth.”
“I moved the money for Mom. I know exactly what happened.”
Aaron entered despite Ortiz’s warning.
“Mom saved your company.”
“She used it.”
“She kept you out of prison.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“For crimes she committed.”
Aaron’s face tightened.
“Give me the laptop.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand what she’ll do.”
“That excuse doesn’t work anymore,” I said.
Aaron looked at me with desperate eyes.
“Rachel, Mom has records that can make it look like you approved everything.”
“Because you forged them.”
“I was going to pay it back.”
“With what?”
“The house sale.”
I stared at him.
“What house sale?”
He went silent.
Daniel answered for him.
“Your house is already under contract.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“That’s impossible.”
Aaron’s name and mine were both on the deed.
At least, that was what I believed.
Daniel opened another file.
The title transfer had been recorded six weeks earlier.
My signature appeared on it.
Again.
The buyer was Bellington Holdings.
Barbara had used my stolen money to buy my own home.
Then she planned to sell it.
“You forged my signature twice,” I said.
Aaron shook his head.
“It was collateral.”
“You sold the house where your daughter sleeps.”
“We weren’t going to lose it.”
“The closing is next week,” Daniel said.
“Shut up,” Aaron snapped.
Detective Ortiz stepped between them.
“You need to stop talking unless you’re prepared to give a formal statement.”
Aaron ignored her.
He looked only at me.
“Barbara said she could fix everything if you signed the authorization.”
“And you let her hurt Chloe to pressure me.”
“I never thought she would hurt her.”
“You watched.”
“I froze.”
“For two months?”
His face crumpled.
“I was scared.”
“So was Chloe.”
That silenced him.
Detective Ortiz asked Daniel to surrender copies of every file.
He agreed.
Then Aaron’s phone rang.
Barbara’s name appeared on the screen.
He did not answer.
It rang again.
Daniel pointed toward it.
“She knows.”
Aaron whispered, “She always knows.”
Detective Ortiz picked up the phone and answered.
“Mrs. Cross, this is Detective Lena Ortiz.”
There was silence on the other end.
Then Barbara laughed.
It was a calm, controlled sound.
“Detective, I assume my unstable daughter-in-law has created quite a performance.”
“Where are you right now?”
“In my home.”
“Stay there. Officers are coming to speak with you.”
Barbara’s voice sharpened.
“You have no authority to order me around.”
“We’ll discuss that when we arrive.”
Ortiz ended the call.
Ten minutes later, she received an update from the officers.
Barbara was not home.
Her car was gone.
So were her passport, several suitcases, and the recorder connected to the porch cameras.
But she had left something behind.
A photograph of Chloe.
May you like
On the back, she had written five words.
Rachel will sign before Friday.
