Chapter 5: The Debt That Wasn't Dad's
Lisa sat on the edge of Dad's bed as if her legs had stopped working.
I remained standing.
The recorder was between us.
The cardboard box sat open beside her.
"Start talking.""
She covered her face.
"Michael...""
"Now.""
"I was going to fix it.""
"You've been saying that since you walked into this house.""
"I thought I had more time.""
"You don't.""
She looked up.
"Neither do we.""
I stared at her.
"Who was that man?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know his real name.""
"Try again.""
"I swear.""
"You expect me to believe you?""
"I've never met him in person.""
"Then how does he know Dad's address?""
She looked away.
"Because he sent someone here.""
"When?""
"Last month.""
My stomach tightened.
"What happened?""
Lisa's voice became quieter.
"He came to the door.""
"Did Dad see him?""
"No.""
"I did.""
I froze.
"You?""
She nodded.
"I answered.""
"What did he want?""
"The money.""
"How much?""
"Twenty-five thousand.""
I stared at her.
"And you owed him twenty-five thousand?""
"I borrowed it.""
"From a loan company?""
"No.""
"Lisa.""
She looked down.
"From people I shouldn't have borrowed from.""
I understood.
"You were gambling.""
Her eyes filled.
"I wasn't gambling at first.""
"What does that mean?""
"I invested in something.""
"What?""
"A business.""
"What business?""
She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter.""
"It matters if Dad's house is collateral.""
"It isn't.""
"Then why is Damon's name on the transfer?""
She went silent.
I picked up the document.
"You said you needed the house because of this debt.""
"Yes.""
"You transferred it to Damon.""
"No.""
"Then who did?""
"I don't know.""
"Stop.""
She looked at me.
"You've lied enough.""
"I swear I don't know.""
I held the document in front of her.
"Your father's signature is forged.""
"I know.""
"Then whose signature is this?""
She stared at it.
"I don't know.""
"How did Damon get involved?""
Lisa took a breath.
"I asked him to help me.""
"With what?""
"Moving money.""
I closed my eyes.
"Damon.""
"He didn't understand.""
"He is twenty-three, Lisa.""
"I know.""
"He understood enough to take fourteen thousand dollars.""
"He thought it was his.""
"Why?""
"Because I told him Grandpa was giving it to him.""
I stared at her.
"So you used my son.""
She started crying.
"I was desperate.""
"You used him to steal from his grandfather.""
"I was trying to protect him.""
"From what?""
"The people I owe.""
I laughed once.
There was nothing funny about it.
"You thought involving a twenty-three-year-old in financial fraud would protect him?""
"I didn't know what else to do.""
"You could have told me.""
"I was ashamed.""
"You should have been.""
She flinched.
I immediately regretted the words.
But I didn't take them back.
Downstairs, Dad called my name.
"Michael!""
I hurried down.
Dad was still in his wheelchair.
Damon stood near the window.
Neither looked at me.
"What happened?""
Dad pointed at Damon.
"He knows.""
Damon looked at me.
"I should have told you.""
"Yes.""
"I was scared.""
"Of Lisa?""
He nodded.
"Of the people she owes.""
Dad looked confused.
"People?""
I moved closer.
"Dad, how much do you know about Lisa's debt?""
"Nothing.""
I looked at Damon.
"She said someone came to the house.""
Damon nodded.
"I saw him.""
"When?""
"Three weeks ago.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because Mom told me not to.""
"Did he threaten you?""
Damon swallowed.
"Not directly.""
"What did he say?""
Damon looked at Dad.
"He said Grandpa had something that belonged to them.""
Dad frowned.
"What?""
"The house.""
Dad's face went pale.
"But I don't owe them anything.""
"I know.""
Damon looked at me.
"That's what scared me.""
I sat beside Dad.
"What exactly did he say?""
Damon rubbed his hands together.
"He said, 'The old man's property settles the debt.''"
Dad's breathing changed.
I looked at him.
"Dad?""
He didn't answer.
His eyes were fixed on something behind me.
"What?""
He whispered, "The safe.""
I turned.
"The safe?""
"I remember.""
Dad's hands began trembling.
"There was a safe.""
"Where?""
"In the garage.""
Damon frowned.
"I thought it was upstairs.""
"No.""
Dad looked at me.
"Your mother put it there.""
"What's inside?""
"I don't know.""
"You don't know?""
Dad shook his head.
"Your mother did.""
I felt a chill.
Mom had died twelve years earlier.
"What did Mom keep in a safe?""
Dad looked toward the window.
"Documents.""
"What documents?""
"I never asked.""
"Why?""
"Because your mother told me not to.""
I stared at him.
"You're telling me Mom knew something about this?""
"Maybe.""
Damon stepped forward.
"Grandpa, I know where the key is.""
Dad looked at him.
"Where?""
Damon reached into his pocket.
The small brass key he'd shown me earlier landed on the table.
"This.""
Dad stared at it.
Then his face changed.
"That isn't the safe key.""
I looked at Damon.
"Then what is it?""
Dad whispered, "It's your mother's desk.""
Lisa appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
She had heard everything.
"The desk?""
Dad looked at her.
"Yes.""
Lisa's face went pale.
"That's impossible.""
"Why?""
She didn't answer.
I stood.
"Because you've already been inside it.""
Lisa's eyes met mine.
"Michael...""
"Where's Mom's desk?""
Nobody answered.
Then Damon said, "It's in the garage.""
We went outside.
The late afternoon sun had softened, turning the driveway orange.
Damon opened the garage.
Dust hung in the air.
My mother's old wooden desk sat against the far wall.
I hadn't seen it in years.
Dad had never let anyone throw it away.
I unlocked the bottom drawer.
Inside were photographs, letters, and an old leather folder.
I opened it.
There was a handwritten note.
I recognized Mom's handwriting.
*Walter, if anything happens to me, do not let Lisa touch the house papers.*
I stopped.
Dad stared over my shoulder.
"What does it say?""
I handed it to him.
His hands shook as he read.
Then he looked at me.
"I never saw this.""
"Why would Mom write that?""
Dad's eyes filled.
"Because she knew.""
"Knew what?""
He looked toward Lisa.
She was standing in the garage entrance.
She had gone completely still.
Dad whispered, "She knew your sister was in trouble.""
Lisa began crying.
"Mom found out.""
I stared at her.
"What did she find out?""
Lisa wiped her face.
"That I had already borrowed money.""
"How much?""
"Thirty thousand.""
"From who?""
"The same people.""
I felt the pieces locking together.
"Mom tried to stop you.""
Lisa nodded.
"She threatened to tell Michael.""
"And you?""
"I begged her not to.""
"What happened?""
Lisa looked down.
"She died before she could.""
Silence.
Damon looked sick.
I opened the leather folder.
Inside was a photograph.
Mom was standing beside Dad.
Behind them was the house.
On the back, in Mom's handwriting, were the words:
*This house belongs to Michael.*
My breath caught.
Dad looked at the photograph.
"She wanted you to have it.""
Lisa whispered, "I know.""
"Then why did you try to take it?""
"Because I was drowning.""
I looked at her.
"And you dragged everyone else underwater.""
She didn't respond.
Then something metallic fell from inside the desk.
A small key.
Different from the brass one.
I picked it up.
Dad stared at it.
"That's the safe key.""
We went to the far corner of the garage.
Behind an old tool cabinet was a steel safe embedded into the wall.
I inserted the key.
It turned.
The lock clicked.
Damon stepped closer.
Lisa whispered, "Don't.""
I opened the safe.
Inside was a stack of documents.
A flash drive.
Several envelopes.
And one sealed letter addressed to me.
I picked it up.
On the front, Mom had written:
*Michael — If you're reading this, your father is already in danger. Do not trust Lisa.*
I looked at my sister.
She began shaking her head.
"No.""
I opened the letter.
The first sentence made my heart pound.
*Your sister did not forge the house transfer.*
I looked at Lisa.
"Then who did?""
She stared at the letter.
"I don't know.""
I read the next line.
*The person who forged it has been inside our family for years.*
Damon stepped backward.
"Grandpa...""
Dad looked at him.
"What?""
Damon's eyes were fixed on the flash drive.
"I've seen that.""
"Where?""
"In Lisa's room.""
Lisa spun toward him.
"What?""
"I saw that drive before.""
I picked it up.
"What's on it?""
Damon shook his head.
"I don't know.""
I looked at Lisa.
She was crying again.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
There was a photograph.
It showed my father's house.
Taken from across the street.
The message beneath it read:
*You have until noon tomorrow.*
Then another message appeared.
*Bring the original deed. Come alone.*
Dad stared at my phone.
Lisa whispered, "Michael, don't go.""
I looked at her.
"Why?""
Her face went white.
"Because whoever sent that message...""
May you like
She swallowed.
"...isn't asking for the deed.""