Chapter 4
I looked from Melissa to my mother.
“That makes no sense.”
Dad had started Carter & Sons Construction in 1988.
Despite the name, I was his only son.
I had worked beside him since I was seventeen.
When cancer forced him to retire, I became president.
After he died, his shares passed to me.
At least that was what I had always believed.
Melissa smiled bitterly.
“Ask Eleanor.”
“Mom?”
Mom’s face had become gray.
One paramedic moved closer.
“Ma’am, are you feeling okay?”
She nodded.
But her eyes stayed on me.
“Your father did leave you the company.”
Melissa laughed.
“That’s not what the document says.”
“What document?”
Mom closed her eyes.
“Daniel, this isn’t the place.”
“The place?”
I could barely keep my voice steady.
“My wife just accused Dad of hiding ownership of my company while police are standing in my kitchen.”
I looked at Melissa.
“What document?”
She folded her arms.
“Dad’s original partnership agreement.”
Dad.
She had started calling my father Dad after we married.
Hearing it from her now made my skin crawl.
“There was never a partner.”
“Yes, there was.”
Mom whispered, “Daniel.”
I turned.
She looked exhausted.
“Please come to the hospital with me.”
That brought me back to what mattered.
Whatever business secret existed could wait.
My mother might have been drugged repeatedly.
I squeezed her hand.
“I’m coming.”
Melissa stepped toward us.
“What about me?”
I stared at her.
“What about you?”
“You’re just leaving me here with police?”
“You’re an adult.”
“I’m your wife.”
“Right now, you’re the person who hurt my mother.”
Her face hardened.
“I told you I can explain.”
“You’ve been explaining for an hour.”
The officer asked Melissa to stay.
He wanted a formal statement.
I followed the ambulance in my truck.
My hands shook so badly at the first red light that I had to grip the steering wheel with both hands.
Every memory from the previous six months replayed differently.
Mom forgetting where she put her keys.
Melissa finding them in the freezer.
Had Mom really put them there?
Mom falling asleep during dinner.
Melissa joking that old age had finally caught up with her.
Had she been drugged?
The appointment Melissa scheduled with a memory specialist.
The brochures for assisted living she left on my desk.
The conversation where I told Mom we might need to consider “other arrangements” if her condition worsened.
Mom had stared at me for a long time.
Then she asked, “Do you want me gone?”
I told her it wasn’t about wanting her gone.
I said it was about safety.
Now I nearly had to pull off the road because I couldn’t see through my tears.
At Baylor University Medical Center, doctors examined her.
They drew blood.
Photographed the bruises.
Treated the irritated skin on her neck.
A social worker arrived.
Then a detective who specialized in crimes involving elderly victims.
His name was Detective Harris.
He had calm eyes and a voice that made Mom relax.
He asked if she wanted me in the room.
“Yes,” she said immediately.
That broke my heart too.
For months, she had been afraid to tell me anything.
Now she needed me beside her.
She described the first incident.
Melissa had asked to borrow $10,000 for Eric.
Mom refused.
A week later, a withdrawal appeared.
Mom confronted her.
Melissa denied it.
Then Mom found a bank form in the trash.
The signature looked like hers.
It wasn’t.
“When did she first hurt you?” Harris asked.
Mom looked down.
“About five months ago.”
I felt sick.
“What happened?”
“I tried to call Daniel.”
My chest tightened.
“Melissa took the phone.”
Mom nodded.
“She said I was upsetting you at work.”
“What happened next?”
“I reached for it.”
She rubbed her wrist.
“She grabbed me.”
Harris asked, “Hard enough to bruise?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Mom touched my hand.
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have.”
Detective Harris looked at me.
“Mr. Carter, manipulation often works because the offender controls information on both sides.”
I nodded, but guilt stayed lodged in my chest.
Mom continued.
The first time Melissa gave her something that made her feel strange, it happened after another argument over money.
“I drank tea,” Mom said.
“Twenty minutes later I couldn’t stay awake.”
“You saw her put medication in it?”
“Not that time.”
“The second time?”
“I saw powder at the bottom of the cup.”
“Did you confront her?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That it was a vitamin.”
Harris wrote everything down.
I wanted to leave the room and scream.
Instead, I stayed beside Mom.
After nearly an hour, the doctor came back.
Initial testing showed a sedative in Mom’s system.
Not enough to put her in immediate danger.
Enough to confirm she had recently ingested something.
Mom had taken no prescribed sedatives.
Detective Harris’s entire posture changed.
He stepped into the hallway to make a call.
I sat beside Mom’s bed.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
“I’m selling the house.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“That house.”
“Daniel—”
“I don’t want you ever walking into that kitchen again.”
“You love that house.”
“I loved what I thought it was.”
She squeezed my hand.
“Don’t make decisions tonight.”
“I already made one.”
“What?”
“You are never being left alone with her again.”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“I don’t want to be the reason your marriage ends.”
“You aren’t.”
“Daniel.”
“She is.”
A long silence passed.
Then I remembered Melissa’s accusation.
“What was she talking about downstairs?”
Mom looked toward the door.
“About your father?”
“Yes.”
She sighed.
“I wanted to tell you after the sale.”
“What sale?”
“The company deal.”
My stomach dropped.
“You know about it?”
“Your father’s attorney called me two months ago.”
“Why?”
“There’s a clause.”
I stared at her.
“What clause?”
Mom’s hands twisted together.
“When your father started the company, he had a partner.”
“Who?”
“A man named Samuel Bennett.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“They built the first ten houses together.”
“Why have I never heard of him?”
“Because they had a terrible falling-out.”
“What happened?”
Mom looked uncomfortable.
“Money. Pride. A woman. It depended which version George told.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
That sounded like Dad.
“So what happened to Bennett?”
“He left Dallas.”
“And?”
“He still owned twenty percent.”
I frowned.
“No. Dad owned one hundred percent before transferring shares to me.”
“That’s what we believed.”
“Believed?”
“Samuel disappeared before the partnership was formally dissolved.”
“How does that affect me now?”
“Because his ownership was never legally extinguished.”
I felt cold.
“Are you saying someone could claim twenty percent of my company?”
“If Samuel is alive, possibly.”
“And if he isn’t?”
“His heirs.”
I stared at Mom.
“How does Melissa know?”
Her eyes filled with shame.
“She found the letter.”
“What letter?”
“From your father’s attorney.”
“When?”
“About six weeks ago.”
That lined up with the home equity application.
The stolen money.
Eric’s secret visit.
“What did the letter say?”
“That Samuel Bennett died last year.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did he have heirs?”
Mom nodded.
“One son.”
“Name?”
“Michael Bennett.”
I stood up.
“Where is he?”
“We didn’t know.”
“And now?”
“I think Melissa found him.”
I froze.
“How?”
“She asked me questions.”
“What questions?”
“About Samuel. About your father. About old addresses.”
“And you told her?”
“I thought she was helping.”
Mom’s voice broke.
“I didn’t understand what she was doing until I heard her talking to Eric.”
“What did they say?”
“That Michael could make trouble.”
“For me?”
“For the sale.”
I looked toward the hallway.
“What does Eric have to do with any of it?”
Mom swallowed.
“That’s on the second recorder.”
My phone rang.
Detective Harris.
I answered immediately.
“Mr. Carter, where are you?”
“At my mother’s room.”
“I’m downstairs.”
“Is something wrong?”
“We executed a search of your residence with your consent.”
“Yes.”
“We found several financial documents and electronic devices.”
My heart pounded.
“And?”
“There’s something you need to know before you go home.”
“What?”
“Your wife is not there.”
I stood.
“What do you mean?”
“She left before officers instructed her not to.”
“You had officers with her.”
“She asked to use the downstairs bathroom. There’s an exterior door from the adjoining laundry room.”
I remembered it.
It led into the side yard.
“She ran?”
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
“Where would she go?”
“We were hoping you could tell us.”
I thought of Eric.
“I know one possibility.”
“Where?”
“Her brother.”
“We’re checking him.”
“No. He doesn’t live in Phoenix.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t. But my mother said he has been in Dallas.”
Mom heard me.
She suddenly grabbed my arm.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“Your workshop.”
“What about it?”
“On the recorder, Eric mentioned a storage unit.”
I put the phone on speaker.
Detective Harris asked, “Did he give a location?”
Mom concentrated.
“Something near Harry Hines Boulevard.”
Harris said, “Anything else?”
She shook her head.
Then her eyes widened.
“He said Unit 214.”
The detective went quiet.
“That helps.”
Mom suddenly looked at me.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“Melissa said something else.”
Her voice became barely a whisper.
“She said if Daniel discovers the money before the company closes, we lose everything.”
I felt sick.
Detective Harris said, “Mr. Carter, do not try to find her yourself.”
“I won’t.”
But my phone buzzed before I could say more.
A text from an unknown number.
I opened it.
One sentence.
ASK YOUR WIFE WHAT SHE PROMISED ME FOR YOUR COMPANY.
May you like
Underneath was a name.
Michael Bennett.
