Chapter 6 - The Trust Fund Nobody Told Me About
The next morning, I learned that my daughter had nearly been killed over something I didn't even know I owned.
Attorney Claire Donovan arrived at the hospital carrying a leather briefcase and an expression that told me she had already heard too much.
She was a probate and trust attorney recommended by Detective Bennett, and she had agreed to review the estate documents independently.
Lucas sat beside me.
Maisie was sleeping.
Claire placed three folders on the table.
"Your grandfather, Thomas Holloway, established a trust before his death."
I frowned.
"His last name was Holloway because my mother kept it after she married Warren."
Claire nodded.
"The business originated with your maternal grandfather. Warren became involved through marriage."
That was true.
Grandpa Thomas had opened the first hardware store with a small loan and a secondhand pickup truck.
He had taught me how to count change behind the register.
He had let me paint wooden birdhouses in the workshop.
He had called me his little business partner.
When he died, I was nineteen.
My father took over everything.
Or so I believed.
Claire opened the first folder.
"Your grandfather left you a beneficial interest in the company and certain real estate holdings. The trust was designed to provide you with income and eventually transfer control of those assets under specified conditions."
"Why didn't I know?"
"That's one of the questions we're investigating."
She turned a page.
"Your father appears to have exercised control over trust assets for years."
"How much money?"
Claire hesitated.
"Based on the preliminary records, the assets involved could be worth several million dollars."
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the number was absurd.
I had spent the previous winter choosing between replacing my car tires and paying for Maisie's daycare.
My father had watched me work overtime at a dental office.
My mother had criticized me for buying secondhand baby clothes.
All while they controlled assets my grandfather intended for me.
Lucas looked furious.
"Can Warren legally do that?"
"Not simply because he's her father," Claire answered. "But we need to examine the trust documents, the trustee appointments, and any amendments or court orders."
She showed me a signature page.
My name appeared beneath a document dated four years earlier.
It purported to authorize a major restructuring of the trust.
I stared at it.
"I didn't sign this."
Claire nodded.
"We'll have the signature examined."
I looked at Lucas.
"The guardianship papers weren't the first forgery."
"No," Claire said. "They may have been part of a larger pattern."
She explained that my engagement and Maisie's birthday might have brought certain legal questions into focus.
The trust contained provisions concerning my future family and succession rights.
Maisie, as my child, could potentially benefit from those provisions.
My father had known about the trust.
He had known Maisie mattered.
And he had spent years making sure I didn't understand either fact.
"Are you saying they hurt her because of money?"
Claire chose her words carefully.
"I'm saying there are financial circumstances investigators need to examine. Motive is something the evidence must establish."
I looked at my sleeping daughter.
She was wearing a hospital gown printed with tiny stars.
Her hair had been brushed into two uneven pigtails by a nurse.
She looked so small.
So innocent.
I couldn't comprehend that her existence might threaten a fortune.
That afternoon, Tessa called.
I almost ignored it.
But Lucas said, "You might want to hear what she has to say."
I answered.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then my sister whispered, "I'm sorry."
I closed my eyes.
"Sorry for what, Tessa?"
"For everything."
"That's not an answer."
She began crying.
"Mom told me Maisie would be okay."
I gripped the phone.
"You helped her."
"I didn't know they were going to put her outside."
"But you knew about the medicine."
Silence.
"Tessa."
"Yes."
The word nearly broke me.
I wanted to throw the phone.
Instead, I asked, "Why?"
"Mom said if you married Lucas, you'd take everything."
"What everything?"
"The stores. The properties. The money Grandpa left."
I stared at the wall.
"You knew?"
"I found out last year."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"Mom said Dad would cut me off. She said Sadie's future depended on keeping the business together."
"Sadie's future?"
My voice rose.
"Maisie almost died so your daughter could keep wearing pageant dresses?"
Tessa sobbed.
"I know how it sounds."
"No. You don't."
She tried to speak again.
I interrupted.
"Did you see them carry Maisie outside?"
A long silence followed.
"Yes."
I felt sick.
"Did she move?"
"Not much."
"And you did nothing?"
"I was scared."
"So was she."
Tessa made a broken sound.
I waited.
Finally, she whispered, "There's something you don't know about Nathan."
My heart began pounding.
"What?"
"Dad didn't just keep his letters from you."
I sat forward.
"What did he do?"
"He made Nathan sign something."
"What?"
"A statement saying he'd never claim Maisie as his daughter."
I closed my eyes.
"Why would Nathan sign that?"
"Because Dad threatened him."
"With what?"
Tessa hesitated.
"With the evidence from Millbrook."
"What evidence?"
"I don't know all of it."
"Tessa, tell me."
She lowered her voice.
"I heard Dad talking to Gerald. He said Nathan found out where the missing trust money went."
I stopped breathing for a second.
"And?"
"And Dad said Nathan should've stayed quiet after the accident."
The words hung between us.
"What accident?"
Tessa began crying harder.
"The one that put him in the rehabilitation center."
I stood so abruptly that Lucas reached for my arm.
"Tessa, are you saying Dad caused Nathan's crash?"
"I don't know."
"Then what are you saying?"
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I'm saying I found a recording on Dad's old office computer."
I gripped the phone.
"What recording?"
"Gerald and Dad talking."
"About Nathan?"
"Yes."
"Send it to Detective Bennett."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because someone already took the computer."
My mouth went dry.
"Who?"
Tessa began breathing quickly.
"I don't know. A man came to the store this morning. He had a key. He went straight into Dad's office."
"Did you see his face?"
"Yes."
"Who was he?"
She whispered a name.
May you like
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt afraid of someone outside my family.
"Lucas's father."
