Chapter 4 - THE PHOTOGRAPH THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
"That's impossible."
I reached for the detective's phone, then stopped myself.
Margaret Foster had been part of my life for more than a decade.
She had brought soup when Sophie was born.
She had sat beside Natalie through our divorce.
She had even attended my wedding to Vanessa because Natalie had insisted that Sophie deserved to see the adults in her life behaving peacefully.
And now Margaret was standing beside my supposedly dead brother.
"What is she doing with Richard?"
Detective Collins studied the picture.
"That's what we intend to ask her."
I looked through the hospital room window.
Natalie was resting with Sophie curled beside her.
I didn't know how to tell her.
I didn't even know whether I should.
Margaret had always been protective of Natalie.
Sometimes too protective.
During our marriage, she had criticized my long work hours and complained that my family treated Natalie like an outsider.
I had resented her interference.
But I had never imagined she could be involved in anything dangerous.
"Does Natalie know about this?" the detective asked.
"I don't think so."
"Then don't confront her with assumptions. We need facts."
I nodded.
But when I entered Natalie's room, she took one look at my face.
"What happened?"
I sat beside the bed.
"Margaret knows Richard."
Natalie stared at me.
"My mother?"
I showed her the photograph.
She looked at it for several seconds.
Then her expression changed.
Not shock.
Recognition.
My stomach sank.
"Natalie?"
She covered her mouth.
"Oh, Mom."
"You knew?"
"No. I knew she was hiding something, but not this."
"What was she hiding?"
Natalie reached toward Sophie and gently adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.
"My mother received a letter last month. She was terrified after reading it."
"From Richard?"
"I don't know."
"Why didn't you ask?"
"I did. She said it concerned an old family matter and told me to stay away from your lake house."
I sat back.
Everything seemed to lead to that house.
My parents had bought it in 1987, on the northern shore of Lake Briar.
When Richard and I were children, we spent entire summers there.
My mother taught us to swim from the wooden dock.
My father grilled hamburgers every Sunday.
Richard taught me to skip stones.
For years, those had been some of my happiest memories.
Now I wondered what else had happened there.
Natalie touched my hand.
"Owen, the last time my mother mentioned that place, she was crying."
"Why?"
"She said your mother had asked her to keep something safe."
Before I could respond, Sophie's little voice interrupted.
"Grandma?"
Natalie stroked her hair.
"Yes, sweetheart."
"Grandma sad?"
I looked at my daughter.
Even after everything she had been through, she was noticing other people's feelings.
I kissed her forehead.
"We're going to make sure everybody is safe."
But I wasn't sure I believed it.
The next morning, Detective Collins informed us that Margaret had agreed to come in for questioning.
Vanessa remained in custody while investigators examined the basement and waited for laboratory results.
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me already did.
But I couldn't forget how frightened she had looked when she told me not to open the door.
That fear had seemed real.
At noon, Collins asked whether I could identify some belongings recovered from Vanessa's car.
One was a blue wool coat.
I recognized it immediately.
My mother had owned it.
She wore it every winter until the lining began to tear.
After her death, I had given the coat to a charity.
"Where did you find this?"
"In the trunk."
I touched the sleeve.
Inside the cuff was a tiny embroidered H.
My mother had sewn it herself.
"That's hers."
Collins turned the coat inside out.
A hidden pocket had been stitched beneath the lining.
Inside was a folded bank receipt dated fourteen years earlier.
The amount was $640,000.
The recipient was listed as Briar Holdings LLC.
I had never heard of the company.
But the signature authorizing the transfer belonged to my father.
"Why would Vanessa have this?" I asked.
"We're investigating whether Richard gave it to her."
Collins set the receipt down.
"There's something you should know about your brother."
I waited.
"He didn't simply vanish after the accident. Someone continued accessing accounts connected to your father's businesses."
"Richard?"
"Possibly. But some transactions happened before the accident."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means the disappearance may have been planned."
An hour later, Margaret arrived.
I hadn't seen her look so old.
Her silver hair was loosely pinned, and she kept twisting her wedding ring.
When she saw me, she stopped walking.
"Owen."
"Why were you with my brother?"
Tears filled her eyes.
"Because he threatened Natalie."
My anger faltered.
"What?"
"Richard found me at the grocery store three months ago. He showed me pictures of Sophie at daycare."
She pressed her hand against her chest.
"He said if I didn't meet with him, he would make sure Natalie lost custody."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because I believed him."
She looked toward the hospital room.
"I have already made so many mistakes where that family is concerned."
Detective Collins gently guided us into a private room.
Margaret took a seat.
Then she told us something I had never heard before.
Twenty-five years earlier, she had worked as a bookkeeper for my father's construction company.
She had discovered money disappearing from pension accounts.
When she questioned him, he told her the transfers were temporary.
"He promised to repay everything," Margaret whispered.
"Did he?"
"Some of it."
"Who was taking the money?"
She looked at me.
"Your brother."
I felt sick.
Margaret continued.
"Your mother found out. She wanted to report it. Your father begged her not to ruin Richard's life."
"Then what happened?"
"Richard threatened to blame me. Your father knew I was raising Natalie alone, and I couldn't afford a lawyer."
She wiped her eyes.
"I signed a false statement saying the accounts were accurate."
I sat motionless.
For years, I had thought Margaret simply disliked my family.
Now I understood why.
"What did Richard want from you recently?" I asked.
"He wanted the original ledger your mother gave me."
"Do you still have it?"
Margaret hesitated.
"I did."
"Where is it?"
"I gave it to Vanessa."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because she told me she was helping you."
My throat tightened.
Margaret began trembling.
"She said Richard was blackmailing her, too. She promised the ledger would go straight to the police."
Detective Collins leaned forward.
"When did you give it to her?"
"Yesterday morning. Just before Natalie went to the house."
I thought about Vanessa locking the basement.
The brown envelope.
The bracelet.
The photograph threatening Sophie.
Something didn't fit.
If Vanessa was working with Richard, why would she tell Margaret she wanted evidence against him?
Collins apparently wondered the same thing.
She asked, "Did Vanessa explain how she knew Richard?"
Margaret nodded.
"She said he had been watching Owen for years."
"Anything else?"
Margaret began crying again.
"She told me there was one person Richard feared more than the police."
"Who?" I asked.
Margaret looked straight at me.
"Your mother."
I almost laughed.
"My mother has been dead for three years."
Margaret shook her head.
"No, Owen. Your mother wasn't the person she meant."
My breath caught.
Margaret pulled a faded photograph from her purse.
It showed my father standing outside the lake house.
Beside him was a woman holding a newborn baby.
She had dark hair.
Green eyes.
And a smile I recognized immediately.
Vanessa's smile.
Margaret whispered, "Owen, your father had another daughter."
I stared at the photograph.
Then at the woman holding the baby.
May you like
Margaret's voice broke.
"And Vanessa is her child."
