Chapter 6 - My Sister Knew
Rebecca was in Dayton.
She refused to give me an address.
Instead, she told us to meet her in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour diner near the interstate.
Marcus wanted to call the police first.
Rebecca begged us not to.
“He’ll disappear if he knows I’m talking.”
“Who?” I asked.
“You know who.”
Daniel.
Sophie and Noah stayed with a hotel childcare service Marcus trusted while we drove north.
I hated leaving them after everything that happened, but I hated the idea of bringing them anywhere near Rebecca’s situation more.
We found my sister sitting in an old Honda Civic beneath a burned-out parking light.
For two years, I had imagined what I would say if I ever saw her again.
None of those imaginary conversations included a black eye.
She stepped out slowly.
Rebecca was forty.
Three years older than me.
Same dark hair as Mom.
Same stubborn jaw.
She looked at Marcus, then at me.
“You look good.”
I almost laughed.
“I spent Christmas Eve homeless.”
Her eyes dropped.
“I heard.”
“From Daniel?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
She looked toward the diner.
“Can we go inside?”
We chose a booth in the back.
Rebecca wrapped both hands around a coffee mug but didn’t drink.
I waited.
She finally said, “Daniel contacted me two years ago.”
“Why?”
“He knew Mom and I weren’t speaking.”
“He used that.”
“Yes.”
“Did you give him information?”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than denial would have.
“How much?”
“At first? Almost nothing.”
She looked at me.
“He told me Mom was hiding money from both of us.”
“She was.”
“I know that now.”
Rebecca’s voice tightened.
“But I thought she was hiding it from me because she planned to give everything to you.”
“So you broke into her house?”
“I had a key.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know.”
Marcus remained silent.
Rebecca continued.
Daniel told her Mom had manipulated our relationship.
He said I knew about the estate.
That I was helping Mom exclude Rebecca.
“He made it sound like you two were laughing at me behind my back.”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t even know Cole Meridian existed.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes. Now.”
She admitted Daniel paid her five thousand dollars the first time.
Then another ten thousand.
She photographed financial records, tax documents, anything bearing company names.
“He told me he was gathering proof for you.”
“For me?”
“He said your mother was becoming forgetful and moving assets around. He said he wanted to protect you before she made a mistake.”
“That sounds insane.”
“It didn’t when he said it.”
That was Daniel’s gift.
He rarely told a lie that sounded ridiculous.
He wrapped lies in just enough truth to make you question yourself.
“What happened to your face?”
Rebecca’s hands tightened around the coffee.
“Three nights ago, he came to my apartment.”
Two days before the bank attempt.
“He wanted the copies.”
“What copies?”
“Everything I ever photographed.”
“Why did you keep them?”
“At first, insurance.”
“Against him?”
“Against everybody.”
That sounded exactly like Rebecca.
“He was panicking,” she continued. “He said he needed proof Margaret intended you to inherit Cole Meridian.”
“Why?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Did you give him the documents?”
“Some.”
My anger flared.
“Rebecca.”
“Not the important ones.”
“How would you know what was important?”
“Because Mom called me before she died.”
I stopped.
“What?”
Rebecca wiped her eyes.
“Three weeks before she went into hospice.”
Mom was still speaking to her?
“She knew what I’d done.”
“How?”
“She always knew more than we thought.”
“What did she say?”
Rebecca looked toward the window.
“She told me Daniel was dangerous when cornered.”
My stomach tightened.
“She said I had a choice. Keep helping him and eventually become his victim, or help expose him.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
“No. That’s not enough.”
“I was jealous of you!”
Her voice rose.
A few people looked over.
Rebecca lowered it again.
“I spent my whole life thinking you got everything. The stable marriage. The kids. Mom’s respect. Dad’s patience before he died. Every time I screwed up, I compared myself to you.”
“You think my life was perfect?”
“I did.”
I laughed bitterly.
“My husband forged my signature and threw his own children into the street.”
“I know.”
“You helped him.”
Rebecca cried silently.
And I wanted to hate her.
Part of me did.
But another part remembered being seven years old, climbing into her bed during thunderstorms because she was the only person who could make me laugh.
Families can injure one another in places strangers never reach.
“What copies did you keep?”
She opened her purse.
A flash drive.
“I scanned everything.”
Marcus took it.
“What’s on here?”
“Mostly documents from Margaret’s office. But there’s one file Daniel cared about more than the others.”
“What?”
“A shareholder agreement.”
Marcus stiffened.
“For Cole Meridian?”
Rebecca nodded.
“He kept asking about percentage ownership.”
“What percentage?”
“He thought Claire would inherit controlling interest.”
Marcus glanced at me.
“That matters.”
“Why?”
“Because control of a private holding company can be used as collateral if lenders believe the ownership is accessible.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“That wasn’t all.”
She pulled out her phone.
“I started recording him after Mom warned me.”
She pressed play.
Daniel’s voice filled the booth.
Once Margaret dies, Claire gets control. Once Claire gets control, I get access.
Rebecca’s recorded voice answered.
What if she won’t give it to you?
Daniel laughed.
Claire always gives me what I want eventually.
My stomach turned.
The recording continued.
And if she doesn’t?
Silence.
Then Daniel said:
Then I make sure she has nothing else. No house. No money. Maybe no kids. People become cooperative when they’re scared.
I stared at the phone.
That conversation happened ten months before Mom died.
My divorce had been planned before my mother was even gone.
Marcus leaned toward Rebecca.
“Did Daniel know Margaret’s trust account number?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I never gave it to him.”
“Then who did?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“I swear.”
Marcus showed her the name of the registered representative.
Thomas Bennett.
Her expression changed.
“That’s impossible.”
“We know.”
“No.”
She leaned closer.
“I mean Daniel used that name before.”
“When?”
“When he talked about someone at the bank.”
My pulse jumped.
“What did he say?”
Rebecca closed her eyes, trying to remember.
“He said, ‘Thomas still opens doors for us.’”
“Us?”
“Yes.”
“Who is us?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus sat back.
“There’s another person.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Definitely.”
Then she looked at me.
“There’s something you need to understand. Daniel isn’t broke because his company failed.”
“What?”
“He moved the money.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. But I heard him arguing with someone about offshore accounts.”
My phone rang.
Eric Lawson.
I answered immediately.
“Eric?”
“Mrs. Bennett, our fraud department found something.”
His voice was tense.
“The $750,000 attempt wasn’t the first suspicious transaction.”
My heart sank.
“How many?”
“We’ve identified eleven.”
“How much money?”
“Not from the emergency trust. From accounts connected to your late mother’s businesses.”
I gripped the table.
“How much?”
He exhaled.
“Approximately $1.6 million.”
The entire booth seemed to tilt.
“Daniel stole $1.6 million?”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“But?”
“The receiving companies have something in common.”
“What?”
“Every one of them lists the same administrative office.”
I waited.
Eric read the address.
Rebecca’s face went white.
I covered the phone.
“What?”
“That address,” she whispered.
May you like
“Yes?”
“That’s Daniel’s accountant.”
