Chapter 9 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Lucas stared at his phone long after the call ended.
"My mother died."
His voice was barely audible.
I stood beside him.
"I know."
"I went to her funeral."
"I know."
He looked at me.
"Then how could she have signed out Nathan's vehicle?"
I had no answer.
Richard arrived at the hospital an hour later.
He carried a folder containing copies of the maintenance records.
Detective Bennett was already there.
She had insisted that any new evidence be reviewed in her presence.
Richard placed the papers on the table.
"The signature belongs to Diane," he said.
Lucas shook his head.
"That isn't possible."
Bennett examined the document.
"The date is eleven months ago."
"Six years after her death," Lucas said.
Richard nodded.
"Yes."
The detective looked at him.
"Could someone have used her credentials?"
"Possibly."
"Who had access?"
Richard hesitated.
"Several people."
"Names?"
"Managers. Accounting staff. Former employees."
Lucas stared at him.
"Dad, why would anyone keep using Mom's name?"
Richard sat down heavily.
"Because the company never fully closed the accounts connected to her."
"Why not?"
"I should have."
The admission sounded simple.
But his expression told me it wasn't.
Bennett continued asking questions.
The more Richard answered, the clearer it became that Northbridge Logistics had operated with almost no meaningful oversight for years.
Diane had once managed the company's financial records.
After her death, Richard allowed other employees to continue using old systems while the business transitioned.
Someone had exploited that weakness.
Or Richard was hiding something.
I couldn't tell which.
Then Claire Donovan called.
She had finished reviewing another portion of my grandfather's trust.
Her voice was tight.
"I found a clause that changes the situation."
"What clause?"
"Your grandfather established a protective provision for your descendants. Under certain circumstances, your child could have an independent beneficial interest."
I closed my eyes.
"Maisie."
"Yes."
"What does that mean?"
"It means your father may have been unable to permanently control certain assets if your daughter's rights were properly recognized."
"Would hurting her give him the money?"
"No. Not automatically. Trusts don't work that simply, and harming a beneficiary doesn't create a lawful entitlement."
"Then why did he do it?"
Claire paused.
"I can't answer that. But I found correspondence suggesting Warren was desperate to prevent an independent review of the trust."
"Who requested the review?"
"Someone claiming to represent Nathan Cole."
My heart began pounding.
"When?"
"Six weeks ago."
The same time Maisie's birthday invitations went out.
I looked at Lucas.
Nathan had been trying to protect our daughter.
Not take her away.
Not abandon her.
Protect her.
The next morning, Detective Bennett arranged a supervised video call with Nathan's care team and attorney.
I sat in a private hospital conference room.
Lucas waited beside me.
When the screen connected, I almost didn't recognize the man who appeared.
Nathan was thinner.
His hair was shorter.
A scar ran along his temple.
But his eyes were the same.
He stared at me.
Then he covered his mouth.
"Emma?"
I started crying.
No one had said my name like that in years.
"Hi, Nathan."
He lowered his hand.
"Is she okay?"
I nodded through tears.
"She's alive. She's getting better."
His face crumpled.
"Thank God."
For several seconds, neither of us could speak.
Then I asked the question that had lived inside me for two years.
"Why didn't you come back?"
Nathan closed his eyes.
"I tried."
"I know about the emails."
"Your father told me you wanted nothing to do with me."
"He lied."
Nathan nodded.
"I figured that out."
"Then why didn't you call me?"
"I did. I sent letters. I went to the store. I tried to get someone to help."
His voice trembled.
"Then Warren threatened to have me arrested for stealing from the business. He had documents with my signature on them."
"Forged documents."
"I know that now."
He looked away.
"I was scared. I thought if I went to jail, I'd never see either of you."
I wiped my face.
"And the accident?"
Nathan's expression changed.
"I found out about the trust."
"How?"
"Your grandfather left records in an old storage unit. Richard helped me access them."
"Why didn't Richard tell me?"
"He thought we needed proof before confronting Warren."
Nathan swallowed.
"I was driving to meet an attorney when my brakes failed."
I felt sick.
"Do you know who did it?"
"No."
"Did you see anyone?"
He hesitated.
"There's something I remember from the day before."
"What?"
"A woman came to the service yard. She asked about my truck."
"Who?"
"I didn't see her face."
"Then how do you know it was a woman?"
"I heard her voice."
He looked directly into the camera.
"She called Richard by a name I had only heard one person use."
I leaned closer.
"What name?"
"Richie."
Lucas went rigid.
His mother had called Richard that.
No one else in the family did.
Nathan continued.
"Richard told me his wife had died. But when I asked about the woman, he looked terrified."
The call ended shortly afterward because Nathan was exhausted.
I sat motionless.
Lucas stared at the blank screen.
Finally, he whispered, "What if my mother isn't dead?"
I didn't answer.
Because at that moment, Detective Bennett entered carrying a new photograph.
It had been recovered from a surveillance camera near the Millbrook warehouse.
The timestamp was from three weeks earlier.
A woman stood beside Gerald Mercer.
She wore dark sunglasses and a long gray coat.
Her face was partially turned toward the camera.
Lucas made a sound I had never heard from him before.
May you like
He took one step backward.
"Mom?"
