Chương 7
That was different.
I hated that it was different.
Dad had been sick for six months.
During those six months he became obsessed with leaving things in order.
He labeled boxes nobody needed labeled.
He wrote passwords on index cards.
He made me promise to cancel a cable package because he did not trust Patricia to remember.
He left instructions for the lawn mower even though Patricia had sold the lawn mower two years earlier.
A letter was possible.
Very possible.
“Did he mention a trust to either of you?”
Reyes asked.
Daniel shook his head.
Caleb did too.
I tried to think.
Dad had not been wealthy.
He owned part of a small electrical contracting business, then sold his share after the diagnosis.
There was life insurance.
There were retirement accounts.
Most of it went to Patricia.
Caleb and I each received modest amounts through beneficiary designations Dad had arranged years before.
There had been no dramatic inheritance.
No secret fortune.
At least, none that I knew about.
“What exactly does the letter say about a trust?”
I asked.
Reyes glanced toward the evidence sleeve.
“That your father created one using proceeds from the sale of his business interest.”
My stomach tightened.
“For who?”
“You and your brother are named beneficiaries.”
Caleb stared at me.
“And?”
I asked.
“And any biological or legally adopted children either of you may have.”
Daniel looked down at Lily.
A cold understanding began forming before anyone said the next part.
“Patricia gets nothing?”
I asked.
Reyes’s expression stayed neutral.
“The letter states that she was provided for separately and was not to have authority over the trust.”
Caleb stood so quickly the chair moved backward.
“Oh, God.”
“What?”
I asked.
He stared at me.
“She knew.”
Reyes turned toward him.
“Knew what?”
Caleb’s hands shook.
“She knew about the money.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said she knew.”
“She asked me about it.”
“When?”
“After Dad died.”
I felt a pulse in my temple.
“You never told me that.”
“She asked whether Dad had left me anything besides the beneficiary account.”
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
“And then?”
“She said he’d hidden money from her.”
Reyes took out his notebook again.
“What else?”
Caleb was breathing too fast now.
“She kept saying he had changed paperwork before he died.”
“What paperwork?”
“I thought she meant the business sale.”
“You thought?”
“She said there was an account she couldn’t access.”
I stared at him.
“How long ago was this?”
“January.”
“You have known since January that Patricia believed Dad hid money from her?”
“I didn’t know there was actually money.”
“You didn’t think to mention it?”
“She was angry about everything.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I didn’t want another fight.”
The sentence landed harder than shouting would have.
There it was.
Not stupidity.
Not manipulation.
Avoidance.
Caleb had given Patricia information because saying no meant enduring her.
He had kept quiet because telling me meant enduring me.
All his choices bent toward whichever direction hurt least in the immediate moment.
Someone else always paid the bill later.
Daniel stood by the window, arms folded.
For once, he did not say anything.
Reyes asked Caleb to continue.
“She called me last night and said she found Dad’s letter.”
“Why now?”
“She said she was cleaning out a box.”
“Did you believe that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mr. Hart.”
“No.”
Caleb looked ashamed.
“No, I didn’t completely believe her.”
“Then why help her?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Because she was crying.”
I laughed once.
It sounded cruel.
Caleb looked at me.
“I know how that sounds.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“She said Dad betrayed her.”
“She says that every week.”
“She said Emily was leaving and taking the only piece of him she had left.”
I stared at him.
“The only piece of Dad she had left is my daughter?”
“That’s what she said.”
Lily woke fully then.
She blinked at the room and made a soft, confused sound.
I looked down at her.
She had my father’s ears.
Everyone said so.
I had always enjoyed that.
Suddenly the resemblance felt like something Patricia had been using as evidence in a case only she understood.
Reyes’s radio crackled again.
He answered.
A voice replied too quietly for me to make out.
Reyes asked the speaker to repeat something.
Then he looked at me.
“What?”
I asked.
“They’ve completed the initial inventory of Ms. Whitmore’s purse and carry bag.”
Daniel straightened.
“And?”
“There’s another item we need to ask you about.”
My stomach sank.
“What item?”
“A printed copy of a petition.”
“For what?”
Reyes’s eyes remained on mine.
“It appears to be a draft filing seeking temporary guardianship of Lily.”
For a moment I heard nothing except Lily making a wet little clicking sound with her tongue.
Daniel was the first to move.
He crossed the room in two steps.
“Draft filing?”
Reyes lifted one hand.
“Let me finish.”
Daniel stopped, barely.
“The document is not stamped by a court, and we do not yet know who prepared it.”
“So it isn’t filed?”
“Not from what we can see.”
“Then what is it?”
“A draft.”
“Drafted by who?”
“We’re working on that.”
I stared at Reyes.
“What does it say about me?”
He looked at the evidence sleeve in his hand, then back at me.
“It alleges that you are experiencing severe emotional instability following your father’s death.”
Caleb made a sound under his breath.
Daniel’s face hardened.
“What else?”
“It claims your husband has isolated you from extended family and that the child may be at risk because of your mental state.”
“That’s insane.”
Daniel’s voice cracked across the little room.
Reyes did not disagree.
I felt strangely calm.
Maybe there was only so much fear the body could manufacture before it became something duller.
“What proof does she claim to have?”
“Some text messages.”
My stomach tightened.
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
May you like
Daniel turned toward me.
I could not think of any message I had sent Patricia that could possibly support something like that.
