Chapter 7 - Mom’s Private Deal
Mom called me at 6:04 the next morning.
Not from her number.
From a pay phone outside a grocery store.
I only answered because Rachel had suggested we stop blocking unknown calls in case witnesses tried to reach us.
“Claire.”
Her breathing sounded uneven.
“What do you want?”
“Your father doesn’t know I’m calling.”
For once, I believed her.
“Then why are you?”
“Because this has gone too far.”
“You mean the investigation?”
“I mean all of it.”
I waited.
“I want to meet you.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Anything you need to say can go through Rachel.”
“I can’t tell your lawyer.”
“Then you can’t tell me.”
“Claire, your father will destroy everything before he lets you win.”
There was fear in her voice.
Real fear.
That was new.
“What does he have left to destroy?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Silence.
Finally she whispered, “Meet me somewhere public.”
Against instinct, I called Rachel.
She disliked it.
Then she surprised me.
“We can manage it.”
Two hours later, Mom sat across from me in a crowded coffee shop.
Rachel occupied a table thirty feet away.
Mom looked terrible.
No makeup.
Hair tied back.
Dark circles under her eyes.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she reached into her purse.
“I brought this.”
An envelope.
Inside was $8,000 cash.
I stared at it.
“What is this?”
“Take Lily. Find an apartment.”
“Whose money?”
“Mine.”
“Is it?”
Her eyes dropped.
I pushed it back.
“I don’t want stolen money.”
“It isn’t stolen.”
“Then tell Rachel where it came from.”
She grabbed the envelope.
“No.”
“Exactly.”
Her eyes filled.
“You have become so cruel.”
I almost laughed.
“You threw my daughter into a snowstorm.”
“Your father threw you out.”
“You handed me my coat.”
Her face tightened.
“I was trying to stop things from getting worse.”
“You told me to get out.”
“I was angry!”
“And Lily was five.”
Several people turned.
Mom lowered her voice.
“I know.”
That was the first admission she had made.
Not but.
Not you caused it.
Just:
I know.
I waited.
She wiped her eyes.
“Your father is not who you think.”
“I’m starting to understand that.”
“No. You’re not.”
She looked toward the window.
“When his company began failing, he borrowed from your grandmother.”
“We found the ledger.”
Mom closed her eyes.
“I knew you would.”
“Did you know about the fake deed?”
She looked at me.
That answered the question.
“You knew.”
“I knew later.”
“You helped him.”
“I didn’t sign anything.”
“But you knew.”
“He said the house was supposed to be his eventually.”
“It belonged to Grandma.”
“He was her son.”
“And?”
Mom’s jaw trembled.
“You don’t understand what it was like living with him.”
I felt anger spike.
“Then why did you make us live with him?”
She flinched.
Good.
For once I didn’t soften the truth.
Mom pulled something else from her purse.
A flash drive.
“What’s on that?”
“Records.”
“What records?”
“Your father keeps two sets of books.”
Rachel was beside us within seconds after seeing the drive.
Mom stiffened.
“You said we were meeting privately.”
“I said I would meet you.”
Rachel sat.
“If you are providing evidence, Diane, you should have your own attorney.”
“I don’t need one.”
“Yes, you do.”
Mom began crying again.
Rachel did not react.
“What are you asking from Claire?”
Mom looked at me.
“Don’t let them send him to prison.”
There it was.
The price.
She was bargaining.
“You want me to protect Dad.”
“I want you to protect this family.”
“There is no family left to protect.”
“He’s your father.”
“And Lily is my daughter.”
Mom stared at me.
I continued.
“You had five years to protect her money. You didn’t.”
“He never told me how much he took.”
“You helped control the account.”
“I thought he was putting some back.”
“How much did you think was acceptable to steal?”
Her face collapsed.
Rachel leaned forward.
“Diane, anything you say may eventually become evidence. You need counsel.”
Mom ignored her.
“Richard has another account.”
“The one paying Rebecca Lawson?”
Mom’s face went blank.
That was how I knew she hadn’t known.
“Who?”
For the first time, I felt almost sorry for her.
“Rebecca Lawson.”
Mom shook her head.
“I don’t know that name.”
“Dad is listed as her partner.”
The blood drained from her face.
“No.”
I showed her the record.
She read it.
Then read it again.
The woman who had defended my father through forgery, theft, and abuse suddenly looked like someone had removed the floor beneath her.
“How long?”
“We don’t know.”
“No.”
She stood so fast the chair scraped.
“Mom.”
She grabbed the table.
“That bastard.”
Rachel watched carefully.
Mom began shaking.
“He told me the Milwaukee transfers were equipment leases.”
“How much?”
She laughed bitterly.
“More than I want to admit.”
She sat again.
Then pushed the flash drive toward Rachel.
“Take it.”
“What’s on it?” Rachel asked.
“Everything I copied last night.”
Bank logins.
Invoices.
Business expenses.
Property records.
And a folder labeled R.L.
Rebecca Lawson.
Mom had apparently found it on Dad’s computer after learning about her.
There were lease payments.
Hotel receipts.
Jewelry purchases.
Cash transfers.
Then one photograph.
Richard stood beside Rebecca.
Between them was a boy of perhaps seven years old.
On the back, in Dad’s handwriting:
Ben’s 7th birthday.
Mom stared at the photo.
“That’s not possible.”
I noticed something about the boy.
The shape of his eyes.
The chin.
The same small half-smile Ethan had in childhood pictures.
I looked at my mother.
She understood at the same moment.
“Oh, God.”
Dad didn’t just have a mistress.
He appeared to have another child.
And according to the financial records, a significant portion of the money stolen from Lily had been paying for his secret son.
Mom covered her mouth.
“I gave him everything.”
I thought of Lily standing barefoot by the door.
“So did we.”
Mom looked at me with tears running down her face.
Then she whispered something none of us expected.
“Rebecca isn’t the secret you should be afraid of.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“What is?”
Mom wiped her cheeks.
“Ask Richard what happened to the first account he opened in Lily’s name.”
I stared at her.
“The first account?”
She nodded.
“The one you found wasn’t the first.”
“What happened to it?”
Mom looked at Rachel.
Then back at me.
“He closed it before you ever knew it existed.”
“How much was in it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom.”
May you like
Her voice broke.
“Claire, I think it was more than two hundred thousand dollars.”
