Chapter 6
I stayed at Mia’s that night.
And the next night.
Daniel didn’t call.
He didn’t text.
Every time I tried to call him, it went straight to voicemail.
Margaret had gotten to him.
I knew it.
She’d moved back into the house while I was gone.
She was cooking his meals, cleaning his clothes, telling him how sorry she was for me, how she’d always known I was no good.
Lila was there too.
They were circling the wagons.
Making sure Daniel had no one but them.
On the third day, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I needed to do something.
Anything.
I drove out to the storage unit where we kept all of Daniel’s dad’s old things.
Boxes of photos.
Old letters.
Tools from his construction business.
I’d been going through them a few months earlier, looking for a birth certificate for the estate paperwork, when Margaret had shown up and made me leave.
Said it was “too personal.”
Said I had no right going through his things.
Now I knew why.
I unlocked the unit.
The smell of old paper and dust hit me.
I started going through the boxes in the back, the ones Margaret had tried to keep me away from.
Most of it was junk.
Old bills.
Broken tools.
Photos of Daniel and Lila as kids.
Then I found it.
A metal box, tucked under a stack of old work boots.
It was locked, but the latch was rusted.
I pried it open with a screwdriver.
Inside was a stack of letters.
All written by Daniel’s dad, Richard.
All dated the week before he died.
I sat down on the cold concrete floor and started reading.
The first letter was to his lawyer.
It said he’d found discrepancies in the company books.
That he suspected someone close was stealing.
That he was going to confront them that Friday.
The second letter was to Margaret.
It said he knew.
Knew she’d been taking money from the company for years.
Knew she’d been gambling it away at the riverboat casino in Indiana.
That he was filing for divorce.
That he was going to change his will.
That she’d get nothing.
The third letter was to Daniel.
It was unfinished.
It started: Son, if you’re reading this, I’m dead. I didn’t have the heart to tell you what your mother is. I wanted to protect you. But if something happens to me before Friday…
The letter cut off there.
The last line was a smudge of ink, like he’d been interrupted mid-sentence.
I stared at the letters.
My blood ran cold.
Richard Hale had died of a sudden heart attack that Friday morning.
The exact day he was supposed to confront Margaret.
The exact day he was going to file for divorce and change his will.
It was too perfect.
Too convenient.
I called Jake immediately.
“I need you to run something for me,” I said.
My voice was shaking.
“Richard Hale’s death certificate. His medical records. Everything. And check Margaret’s casino records for that week. If she was there the night before he died. If she took out a big life insurance policy on him right before.”
“Emily,” Jake said slowly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying his death might not have been an accident,” I said.
I looked down at the unfinished letter in my lap.
“I’m saying she might have killed him.”
Two days later, Jake called me back.
His voice was grim.
“You were right,” he said. “She took out a $500k life insurance policy on Richard three weeks before he died. The beneficiary was her. And she was at the casino the night before he died. Lost $40k that night. She was desperate, Emily. He was going to leave her with nothing. She had every motive in the world.”
“Cause of death?” I said.
“Heart attack,” he said. “But the coroner’s report says he had a high level of a prescription stimulant in his system. The kind that can trigger a heart attack in someone with undiagnosed heart issues. Margaret has a prescription for that exact drug. For her ‘anxiety.’”
I felt sick.
Six years.
I’d lived in that house with her for six years.
A woman who was capable of stealing from her own son.
Of ruining his chances of having a baby.
And possibly of killing her own husband.
My phone buzzed.
It was Lila.
I almost didn’t answer.
But I did.
“Emily,” she said.
Her voice was small.
Scared.
“I need to see you. Alone. Please. I know the truth. About everything. And I’m so scared.”
“Where are you?” I said.
“The park by the lake,” she said. “The one we used to go to as kids. Please come. Don’t tell Daniel. Don’t tell anyone. She’ll kill me if she finds out I told you.”
She hung up.
I looked at the letters from Richard in my hand.
I grabbed my keys.
May you like
I knew then that whatever Lila was about to tell me would change everything.
Forever.
