Chương 9
The inner plate opened.
Inside was no treasure.
No hidden fortune.
A tiny folded piece of paper lay beneath the photograph.
Ethan exhaled.
“Oh, come on.”
Sophie almost agreed.
She unfolded it.
There were numbers.
An account number.
And a name.
M. Cole.
Her mother.
Robert watched her.
“That,” he said, “is why Daniel came looking.”
Michael stared at the paper.
“I’ve never seen that.”
Robert's smile returned.
“Sure.”
Sophie looked at him.
“What is it?”
“An account your mother opened before she left Michael.”
“With what money?”
Robert said nothing.
Michael did.
“Company money.”
Sophie looked at him.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
Robert laughed.
“Now he doesn’t know numbers.”
Michael ignored him.
“Margaret told me she had taken money.”
Sophie felt cold.
“When?”
“The night she left.”
“How much?”
“She said enough to get away.”
Robert said, “Fifty thousand.”
Sophie stood.
“We’re done.”
Robert looked surprised.
“You don’t want the rest?”
“I want facts. You enjoy this too much.”
That hit him.
For the first time, his confidence faltered.
Sophie gathered Daniel’s letter.
Robert said, “Your mother stole that money.”
“Maybe.”
“She lied to everyone.”
“Maybe.”
“You came for the truth.”
“I did.”
“And?”
Sophie looked at him.
“You’re not the truth. You’re a man with information.”
She left.
Ethan followed.
Michael remained behind.
Sophie turned from the door.
“Are you coming?”
He looked at Robert.
Then stood.
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Not enough to forgive him.
Enough to notice.
Back at the lake, Margaret was waiting.
Sophie placed the folded account number on the table.
Her mother looked at it.
Then sat.
“I wondered where that went.”
“Did you steal fifty thousand dollars?”
Margaret took a long breath.
“Yes.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Fantastic.”
Sophie sat opposite her.
“Why?”
“To leave.”
“You had two hundred and eighty dollars.”
“In my purse.”
“Where was the rest?”
“A bank account under my maiden name.”
“Company money?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael controlled our accounts.”
Michael stood near the door.
Margaret looked at him.
“You did.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
She turned back to Sophie.
“I had no credit card in my name. No savings he couldn't see. When I threatened to leave, he canceled my debit card.”
Michael looked ashamed.
“I did.”
“So you stole it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I transferred it from an account I knew Robert was using.”
Sophie frowned.
“You stole stolen money.”
Margaret almost smiled.
“When you say it like that, it sounds poorly planned.”
“It was poorly planned.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to it?”
“Lawyer. Rent. Childcare. Medical bills. I returned what was left.”
“How much?”
“About thirty-one thousand.”
“To whom?”
“The company attorney.”
Michael looked at her.
“You never told me that.”
“It wasn’t your money.”
“No.”
Margaret looked at Sophie.
“Daniel knew.”
“Before he married you?”
“Eventually.”
“And before he died, he went looking into it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted to make sure nothing could come back on you.”
Sophie stared.
“Me?”
“The account was under Cole.”
“My name?”
“No. Mine after I married Daniel.”
“Then why me?”
Margaret looked at the locket.
“Because Robert had started asking about it.”
Sophie understood.
“He wanted the money.”
“He believed I still had it.”
“And Dad wanted proof you returned it.”
“Yes.”
“Did he find it?”
“I don't know.”
Ethan picked up Daniel’s phone.
“Maybe.”
The next two days became an investigation none of them had wanted.
Not a glamorous one.
They called an attorney.
They requested archived court records.
They searched old tax files and bank boxes.
Michael contacted the lawyer who had represented him twenty-three years earlier. The man was retired in Florida and initially refused to discuss anything until Michael proved his identity.
Linda found a box in her attic containing copies of Margaret’s old statements.
The evidence came slowly.
Messily.
Human beings misremembered dates.
Documents were missing.
A bank had merged twice.
An old account number no longer matched anything in the current system.
Nothing resolved itself because Sophie wanted it resolved.
Meanwhile, she had a job.
That fact almost offended her.
Monday morning she sat at her desk in Burlington answering emails about a museum fundraising campaign while half her family history remained spread across Margaret’s dining table.
At noon Ethan texted.
You alive?
Unfortunately.
Mom made soup.
Threatening.
She says eat.
More threatening.
A minute later:
Michael asked if he can give you his number.
Sophie stared at the message.
No.
Then she deleted it.
She typed:
Yes.
She hated herself a little.
Michael did not call.
He sent one text.
This is Michael. No need to answer.
She did not.
That evening, Margaret found the receipt.
Thirty-one thousand, four hundred and twelve dollars had been returned to the company through its attorney in December 2004.
Not all fifty thousand.
Margaret had spent the rest escaping.
There was no criminal case against her.
There had never been one.
Daniel had known that.
So why had he met Robert?
The answer came from the retired lawyer.
Michael called Sophie first.
“I found something.”
She almost ignored the call.
Instead she answered.
“What?”
“My old attorney kept notes.”
“And?”
“Robert approached Daniel.”
Sophie sat straighter.
“What?”
“He contacted him first.”
“Why?”
“He wanted Daniel to convince Margaret to pay the rest.”
“The money she spent?”
“Yes.”
“Twenty years later?”
“He said with interest it was over sixty thousand.”
“Was Robert entitled to it?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the company’s restitution was settled in court. Robert was trying to collect personally.”
Sophie closed her eyes.
“So Dad started investigating him.”
“Yes.”
“And Robert pretended to be you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I think he wanted Daniel to believe I was threatening you again.”
That made sense.
Ugly sense.
If Daniel believed Michael had returned, he might focus on protecting his family rather than questioning Robert.
“But Dad knew he was lying.”
“Eventually.”
Sophie looked toward her office window.
People walked below on Church Street.
A woman pushed a stroller.
A man carried flowers.
The world remained offensively intact.
May you like
“What did Dad decide?”
“I don’t know.”
