Chương 12
My mother whispered, "Charles, we need our lawyer."
He looked at her.
"Which one?"
"Don't be childish."
"Weller?"
Her face went rigid.
Nobody missed it.
Sloan said, "Thomas Weller currently represents you?"
"No."
"Your husband?"
"No."
"The Bennett Family Foundation?"
My mother hesitated too long.
Sloan wrote something.
My mother glared.
"He advises the foundation occasionally."
My father laughed again.
This time there was no humor in it.
"Occasionally."
She turned on him.
"Would you stop?"
"How many times did you meet him after Michael died?"
"That's none of your business."
"We're married."
"That hasn't made everything your business in years."
The sentence struck harder than shouting.
My father looked at her.
Vanessa rubbed her forehead.
"Please don't discover an affair tonight."
My mother's head snapped toward her.
"There was no affair."
"Great."
Vanessa exhaled.
"Fantastic."
Then she looked at Sloan.
"Sorry."
Sloan's mouth twitched.
"Believe it or not, I've heard worse interruptions."
My father stared at my mother.
"What meetings?"
"Legal meetings."
"About what?"
"Michael's estate."
"Michael didn't use Weller for his estate."
My mother went silent.
I watched them.
There was a pattern here I didn't understand yet.
Not romantic.
Something else.
"What did Weller do for you after Michael died?"
My mother turned toward me.
"I already told you."
"No."
"You keep telling me pieces."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Because that's what I remember."
"I don't believe you."
"That's your choice."
"Stop."
The word came from Vanessa.
My mother looked at her.
Vanessa leaned forward.
"Stop treating every question like an attack."
"I am being attacked."
"You're being asked."
"By everyone."
"Because you've lied to everyone."
My mother's eyes filled again.
She looked tired now.
Not strategically tired.
Old tired.
"I was trying to keep Michael's children from losing everything."
That changed the room.
My father looked at her sharply.
"What?"
My mother pressed her lips together.
Then she seemed to give up.
"Michael left debts."
"How much?"
"I don't know exactly."
"You knew enough to invest two million."
"That money was before."
"Before what?"
"Before I understood how bad things were."
My father leaned forward.
"How bad?"
She looked at him.
"He had personally guaranteed some Harrow obligations."
My father swore softly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You hated him."
"I had reasons."
"Yes."
She gave him a bitter look.
"You usually did."
Sloan held up a hand.
"Mrs. Bennett, stay with the money."
My mother closed her eyes briefly.
"Michael was trying to keep his house."
"Which house?" Lee asked.
"The one in Charlottesville."
"Owned personally?"
"Through a trust."
"Which trust?"
She hesitated.
"The same trust Weller managed."
I felt the hairs rise on my arms.
"What trust?"
My mother looked at me.
"The Harrow Children's Trust."
I knew the name.
Not from family.
From Bellweather.
I reached for my phone, then stopped because Sloan had asked us not to move evidence around.
"Bellweather paid consulting fees to that trust."
My mother shook her head.
"No."
"Yes."
"You must be mistaken."
"I'm not."
"They were supposed to go to Michael's children after his death."
"From Bellweather?"
"I don't know."
"Then why are you sure?"
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Sloan leaned forward.
"Mrs. Bennett, did Thomas Weller tell you where those payments originated?"
My mother's eyes moved toward the door.
"No."
"Did you ask?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because they were for the children."
Lee stopped writing.
"That doesn't answer the question."
My mother pressed both palms against the table.
"I didn't want to know."
Nobody moved.
There it was.
Not ignorance.
Chosen ignorance.
My father stared at her.
"You knew Michael was dirty."
"I knew he had problems."
"You knew."
"I suspected."
"You gave him money anyway."
"He was my brother."
"You let Claire take the fall anyway."
"I didn't know what the report would become."
"You knew enough to be afraid."
My mother looked at me.
Her eyes were red.
"Yes."
The word was quiet.
I felt no triumph.
Not even relief.
Just exhaustion.
Sloan asked, "Did you instruct Weller to prepare the deceased-beneficiary declaration?"
"Yes."
"Did he advise you that Claire was alive?"
"He knew."
"Did he tell you the declaration could be misleading?"
My mother stared at the table.
"Yes."
Vanessa made a small sound of disbelief.
Sloan continued.
"Did he advise against using it?"
My mother waited too long.
My father whispered, "Diane."
She looked at him.
"He said it would be cleaner to amend the trust another way."
"Cleaner."
My father's voice was almost empty.
"You chose the dead-daughter option because it was cleaner."
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because if Claire was listed as estranged, she retained notice rights."
I felt my stomach turn.
Sloan's face changed for the first time.
"Notice rights regarding what?"
My mother looked at me.
"The trust assets."
"Which assets?"
"Foundation interests."
"Only foundation interests?"
Silence.
My father stood.
"What else?"
"Charles."
"What else?"
Her shoulders sagged.
"Bellweather."
I stared at her.
My father looked confused.
"What about Bellweather?"
My mother looked at me.
"Part of the beneficial interest in Bellweather had been placed in the family trust."
I stopped breathing.
"Whose interest?"
She didn't answer.
My father did.
"Michael's?"
She shook her head.
His face changed.
"Mine?"
Another shake.
Vanessa whispered, "Mom."
My mother looked directly at me.
"Yours."
For several seconds, I thought I had misunderstood.
"Mine?"
"Temporarily."
"I never owned Bellweather."
"Not directly."
"What does that mean?"
"Weller structured the original investment."
"I didn't invest."
"You had a beneficial share through the trust."
"How much?"
My mother looked at Sloan.
Sloan said nothing.
My mother swallowed.
"Twenty percent."
My father sat down hard.
I stared at her.
"You put twenty percent of Bellweather in my name?"
"In trust."
"Without telling me."
"It was estate planning."
"It was a company tied to fraudulent reimbursements."
"I didn't know that when it was formed."
"But you knew before you declared me dead."
She looked away.
The answer moved through me slowly.
May you like
The fake obituary had not just removed me from a family trust.
It had removed my name from the ownership chain of the company I had discovered.
