Chapter 8: My Mother’s Name
“No.””
The word came out before I could think.
Officer Brooks still held Celeste’s letter.
“My mother had nothing to do with this.””
Dad said nothing.
That scared me more than the accusation.
I turned toward him.
“Tell her.””
His eyes dropped.
“Dad.””
Still nothing.
“You know that’s impossible.””
He closed his eyes.
“Ryan…”
“No.””
Mia was sitting thirty feet away with the paramedic.
I kept my voice low.
“My mother spent twelve years grieving you.””
Dad opened his eyes.
“No.””
I stared at him.
“What?””
“She spent twelve years pretending to.””
The sentence hit harder than Vanessa’s slap had hit Mia.
My mother had died four years earlier.
Cancer.
I had held her hand in a hospital room.
Her last coherent words to me had been about Dad.
“I hope I see your father again.””
I had cried for hours after she died.
Now Dad was telling me she knew he was alive.
“You’re wrong.””
“I wish I was.””
Officer Brooks folded the letter into an evidence sleeve.
“What was Margaret’s involvement?””
Dad breathed slowly.
“She found the records before I could take them to federal investigators.””
“My mother?””
“She confronted me.””
“What did she say?””
“She said exposing Elias would destroy our family.””
“That makes no sense.””
“She had debts.””
I shook my head.
“We weren’t poor.””
“No.””
Dad’s voice turned bitter.
“She had gambling debts.””
My stomach twisted.
I remembered whispered arguments behind bedroom doors when I was a teenager.
Mom asking Dad for money.
Dad refusing.
I had always assumed they argued about household bills.
“She borrowed from Elias?””
Dad nodded.
“At first.””
“And then?””
“She started helping him.””
“How?””
“Information.””
Officer Brooks asked, “About Thomas?””
“About me. About when I was meeting investigators. About where the records were hidden.””
I stepped away.
My father had been betrayed by his wife.
I had married a woman who knew more about his disappearance than she ever admitted.
Every family memory I owned was turning rotten.
Vanessa whispered, “Ryan.””
“Don’t.””
“I didn’t know about your mother.””
“I said don’t.””
She stopped.
Dad reached toward me.
“Son.””
I looked at him.
“Did Mom know they were going to fake your death?””
“Yes.””
I laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“She stood beside me at your funeral.””
Dad’s eyes filled.
“I know.””
“She held my hand.””
“I know.””
“She watched me bury someone else.””
“I know.””
“How do you know?””
He hesitated.
“They recorded it.””
I stared.
“Who?””
“Elias.””
“For what?””
“To show me.””
My stomach turned.
“They showed you the funeral?””
Dad nodded.
“They wanted me to understand that my life was gone.””
I pictured my twenty-year-old self in the cemetery.
Rain.
Black umbrellas.
My mother gripping my elbow.
And somewhere, my father being forced to watch.
I had no words.
Officer Brooks gave me a moment, then turned toward Vanessa.
“We need your full statement.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“I want my son.””
“You are not going near Caleb.””
“He needs me.””
“He specifically asked not to be returned to you.””
“He’s scared.””
“He accused you of locking him inside.””
Vanessa cried harder.
“I was trying to keep Marcus from killing him.””
Brooks’s expression didn’t change.
“You can explain that downtown.””
Vanessa looked at me.
“Ryan, please.””
I said nothing.
She tried again.
“You know I love Mia.””
I looked at the red mark on my daughter’s cheek.
“No.””
Vanessa flinched.
“I made one mistake.””
“You followed a four-year-old through the yard, ripped food out of her hands, slapped her, and dragged her away from a child you had locked underground.””
“I was panicking.””
“That doesn’t make it one mistake.””
“I was protecting Caleb.””
“By starving him?””
“I brought food.””
“When?””
Her silence answered.
Mia had been feeding him.
Vanessa looked down.
Officer Brooks took her by the arm.
“Turn around.””
Vanessa looked shocked.
“What?””
“You’re being detained pending investigation into child abuse, unlawful confinement, and obstruction.””
“No.””
She pulled back.
“Vanessa,” I said.
She looked at me.
“Don’t make Mia watch another fight.””
Her body went still.
Slowly, she turned around.
The officer cuffed her.
Mia saw it.
“Daddy?””
I walked over and knelt beside her.
“Vanessa is going with the police.””
“Because she hit me?””
“Because she did a lot of things she needs to explain.””
Mia looked toward Caleb’s ambulance.
“Can he come with us?””
My heart tightened.
“I don’t know.””
“He doesn’t like being alone.””
“I know.””
A child-services worker had arrived.
She was speaking quietly with Caleb inside the ambulance.
He saw Mia through the open doors.
He lifted his hand.
Mia waved.
Then Caleb suddenly pointed at Dad.
The worker leaned closer.
Caleb said something.
She looked toward me.
“Mr. Carter?””
“Yes?””
“Caleb says Thomas knows where Marcus is going.””
Everyone turned toward Dad.
He looked confused.
“I don’t.””
Caleb lifted his oxygen mask.
“Yes, you do.””
Dad frowned.
“What are you talking about?””
“The room.””
“What room?””
“The one Marcus kept asking you about.””
Dad’s face changed.
I saw recognition.
Officer Brooks did too.
“What room?””
Dad struggled to sit higher.
“Inside the house.””
I stared at him.
“My house?””
“There used to be a hidden room under the old study.””
“We don’t have a study.””
“You converted it.””
I remembered.
When I bought the house from the estate, I turned Dad’s old study into a home office.
“What’s underneath it?””
“A crawlspace.””
“No. Behind the foundation wall.””
Dad swallowed.
“I hid originals there.””
Officer Brooks asked, “Original evidence?””
“Yes.””
“Marcus knows?””
“He knows there was something he never found.””
My phone vibrated.
Everyone froze.
Officer Brooks took it.
Another message.
This time, a photograph.
My home office.
Taken from inside the house.
The desk.
The bookshelf.
The rug.
Someone was inside.
Mia was outside with me.
Caleb was safe.
Dad was alive.
Vanessa was in custody.
And Marcus Vale was inside my house.
Then another photograph arrived.
A section of floor beneath my office rug had been pulled open.
The message underneath contained five words.
THANK YOUR MOTHER FOR THE MAP.
Dad stared at the screen.
“No.””
Officer Brooks asked, “What?””
Dad pointed.
“He’s not looking for the evidence.””
“Then what is he looking for?””
Dad’s face went pale.
“The money.””
I stared at him.
“What money?””
Dad looked at the house.
May you like
“Elias’s missing six million dollars.””
And from somewhere inside, glass shattered.
