Chapter 8: The Woman Behind the Scheme
By seven the following morning, our kitchen had become a temporary command center.
Michael was on the phone with the bank.
Rebecca was reviewing the original documents.
Dr. Hayes had sent a written statement confirming that he had never examined my mother on the date listed in the fraudulent assessment.
My mother sat beside me, drinking tea.
For the first time in months, nobody was telling her when to eat, where to sit, or when to go upstairs.
Vanessa had spent the night in the guest bedroom.
She had barely spoken.
At 7:32 a.m., Michael ended his call.
“The bank has temporarily restricted the disputed transactions,” he said.
“They've also identified the destination account used in the attempted transfer.””
I looked at him.
“Where did the money go?””
“The latest transfer was rejected. But previous transfers were processed through two separate accounts.””
“Whose accounts?””
“One belongs to Collins Family Holdings. The other is registered to an individual.””
“Who?””
Michael looked at the paperwork.
“Patricia Collins.””
I closed my eyes.
My mother put down her cup.
“How much did she take?””
Michael hesitated.
“We're still reconciling the records. But the preliminary figure is approximately forty-seven thousand dollars.””
I looked toward Vanessa.
“You said forty thousand.””
She stared at the floor.
“I didn't know about the other transfers.””
Michael nodded.
“That is why we're investigating every transaction separately.””
I leaned back.
“Why would Patricia use her own account?””
Rebecca answered without looking up.
“Because she may have believed nobody would question the transfers if they appeared to be reimbursements or family assistance.””
My phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A man's voice spoke.
“Mr. Carter? My name is Thomas Bell. I'm calling from Collins Family Holdings.””
I looked at Michael.
“Go ahead.””
“I understand there has been a disagreement involving your wife and Mrs. Collins.””
“That's one way to describe it.””
He cleared his throat.
“I represent the company's financial interests. Mrs. Collins has instructed us to contact you regarding a proposed settlement.””
I frowned.
“What settlement?””
“She is willing to withdraw her interest in the trust amendment if your mother agrees to sign a release concerning the previous transactions.””
I looked at Michael.
He immediately shook his head.
I returned to the call.
“My mother isn't signing anything.””
“Mr. Carter, perhaps we can resolve this privately.””
“Did your company receive money from my mother's account?””
There was a pause.
“I would need to review the records.””
“Then review them.””
He lowered his voice.
“Mrs. Collins is prepared to make a substantial payment to avoid unnecessary conflict.””
I felt anger rising.
“You're offering to pay my mother with her own money?””
He didn't respond.
I ended the call.
Michael looked at me.
“That's important.””
“What?””
“They may be attempting to negotiate a release before the transactions are fully investigated.””
Rebecca placed another document on the table.
“There's also something else.””
She turned her laptop toward us.
“I examined the original trust amendment and compared it with the signature samples. The signature attributed to Eleanor appears to have been copied from a medical authorization.””
My mother looked confused.
“Copied?””
Rebecca nodded.
“Someone may have traced or reproduced your signature using an existing document.””
Vanessa appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“I didn't do that.””
Nobody answered.
She approached slowly.
“I want to help.””
I looked at her.
“Then tell us where your mother keeps the original documents.””
“I don't know.””
“Vanessa.””
She closed her eyes.
“There's a storage unit.””
Michael looked up.
“Where?””
“Near the commercial property.””
“Does your mother have access?””
Vanessa nodded.
“She rented it under the company's name.””
“What is inside?””
“I don't know everything.””
I stared at her.
“Then tell us what you do know.””
She swallowed.
“Files. Old business records. Some of my father's things. And the original trust papers.””
My mother looked up sharply.
“Your father's things?””
Vanessa nodded.
“My mother said your husband kept copies of everything.””
I turned toward Michael.
“We need to secure those documents.””
Michael nodded.
“We'll arrange a proper legal process and make sure nothing is removed or altered.””
Vanessa took a breath.
“There's something else.””
I looked at her.
“My mother didn't just want the property.””
“What else did she want?””
“She wanted the original letter your father gave your mother.””
My mother tightened her grip on the teacup.
“Why?””
Vanessa looked at her.
“Because it contains something about Margaret.””
I looked at the old photograph.
“What about Margaret?””
Vanessa hesitated.
Then she said:
“Your father promised her something before she died. My mother believes that promise was never fulfilled.””
Michael frowned.
“The settlement agreement clearly states otherwise.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“That's what my mother told me too. But she said Margaret had a second agreement.””
My mother stared at her.
“What second agreement?””
Vanessa looked down.
“A letter.””
Silence filled the kitchen.
My mother slowly stood.
“I know that letter.””
I turned toward her.
“Where is it?””
She shook her head.
“Your father kept it in his study. After he died, I put it away with his personal things.””
I remembered the old wooden desk in the attic.
We hadn't opened its bottom drawer in years.
“Mom, is it still there?””
She nodded.
“I think so.””
I looked at Michael.
“We need to find it.””
He stood.
“Let's do that carefully.””
We went upstairs.
The attic smelled of old cardboard and cedar wood. Sunlight entered through a small circular window, illuminating dust floating in the air.
My father's desk stood against the wall.
Its brass handles were dull with age.
I opened the bottom drawer.
Inside were old photographs, tax documents, handwritten notes, and several envelopes.
My mother pointed toward a small wooden box.
“That belonged to your father.””
I lifted it.
The lid was locked.
I looked at Michael.
He examined the lock.
“Do you have a key?””
My mother shook her head.
I searched the drawer and found a small key taped beneath a wooden divider.
It fit.
Inside the box were three envelopes and a folded piece of paper.
The first envelope contained an old business contract.
The second held a photograph of my father with Margaret.
The third had a handwritten label.
*For Eleanor. Open only if Patricia returns.*
My mother covered her mouth.
I opened it.
The letter was dated two days before my father's final hospitalization.
Eleanor,
If Patricia ever returns asking for the property, do not argue with her. Show her the settlement receipt and remind her that Margaret agreed to the final arrangement.
But if Patricia insists that there was another promise, give her the second document.
I looked inside the envelope.
There was no second document.
Only a short handwritten note.
The original is not in this house. It is with the person Margaret trusted most.
My mother frowned.
“Who could that be?””
I examined the photograph of my father and Margaret.
On the back was another name.
*Thomas Bell.*
I stared at it.
“That's the man who just called me.””
Michael looked at the photograph.
“Thomas Bell is the representative from Collins Family Holdings?””
I nodded.
“He said he was calling about a settlement.””
Michael's expression changed.
“Then we need to speak with him.””
I called the number.
He answered on the second ring.
“Mr. Carter?””
“I need to ask you about Margaret Collins.””
Silence.
Then he said:
“Where did you get that name?””
“My father left a photograph.””
Another pause.
“Mr. Carter, I think we should meet.””
“Why?””
“Because your father trusted me with something twelve years ago.””
I looked at Michael.
“What?””
“The original agreement between your father and Margaret.””
My mother sat down on an old trunk.
I felt my pulse quicken.
“Why do you have it?””
“Because Margaret gave it to me before she died. She asked me to protect it until the truth became necessary.””
I swallowed.
“What truth?””
Thomas lowered his voice.
“The truth about who actually funded your father's investment.””
I frowned.
“What are you talking about?””
“Your father didn't purchase the commercial property with his own money.””
I looked at Michael.
Thomas continued.
“He used a private loan arranged through Margaret. But that loan was repaid in full before the trust was created.””
I shook my head.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“It will when you see the original documents.””
“Why didn't Patricia tell Vanessa?””
Thomas gave a quiet, bitter laugh.
“Because Patricia doesn't want anyone to know that Margaret deliberately removed her from the agreement.””
My mother slowly looked up.
“Why?””
Thomas answered before I could ask.
“Because Margaret believed Patricia was stealing from the company.””
The attic went silent.
I looked at my mother.
She was trembling.
Thomas continued.
“Your father discovered irregular transfers in the business accounts. Margaret wanted him to expose them. Patricia begged him not to.””
I felt my throat tighten.
“Did my father expose her?””
“Yes.””
“And Patricia?””
“She was removed from the business. But before that happened, she made one final attempt to access the property.””
I remembered the forged documents.
The false medical assessment.
The attempted trust amendment.
The forty-seven thousand dollars.
“Is that why she came after my mother?””
Thomas didn't answer immediately.
Then he said something that made me grip the phone tighter.
“Daniel, Patricia believes your mother is hiding the original evidence that proves what happened to Margaret's money.””
My mother whispered, “I don't have it.””
Thomas replied:
“Maybe not. But I know who does.””
“Who?””
He took a breath.
“Vanessa.””
I turned toward my wife.
She was standing at the attic entrance.
Her face had gone completely white.
Thomas continued.
“Margaret gave Vanessa a sealed envelope when she was a child. Patricia has been searching for it for years.””
I stared at Vanessa.
“What envelope?””
She began crying.
“My mother told me to forget about it.””
“Vanessa, what envelope?””
She shook her head.
“I thought it was just an old letter.””
“Where is it?””
She covered her mouth.
May you like
Then whispered:
“It's in my jewelry box.””
