Chapter 5: The Account Nobody Was Supposed to Find
At nine forty-five the following morning, Marcus parked outside the downtown public library.
He had barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the note inside the locket. Do not let Denise take my boy. Beneath it, the smaller message continued to haunt him.
Ask about the account.
An account could mean anything: a bank account, a business record, an insurance policy. Yet the warning suggested that whatever it referred to had been important enough for Robert to hide it from his own sister.
Marcus looked at Evelyn, who sat beside him wearing a clean sweater and the only pair of shoes she owned without a hole in the sole. He had bought her clothes the previous evening, but she had insisted on choosing only what she needed.
“You don't have to come inside,” he told her.
“If you'd rather stay in the car—”
“No.””
She straightened her shoulders.
“I have spent twenty-seven years wondering why my life fell apart. I'm not going to sit quietly while other people decide what I'm allowed to know.””
Marcus nodded.
“Then let's find out.””
Caleb was spending the morning with Marcus's neighbor, who had offered to watch him until lunchtime. Marcus wanted his son to enjoy a normal Saturday rather than sit through conversations about lies, missing records, and a family history that was becoming more disturbing by the hour.
Inside the library, Tasha waited at a table near the back.
She stood when Marcus and Evelyn approached.
For a moment, she looked at Evelyn without speaking. Her eyes traveled across the older woman's face, and something resembling shame passed through her expression.
“Mrs. Brooks,” she whispered.
Evelyn's shoulders stiffened.
“Hello, Tasha.””
Tasha swallowed.
“I don't know if you remember me.””
“I remember you as a little girl who liked strawberry ice cream.””
A painful smile appeared on Tasha's face.
“You remembered that?””
“I remember a lot of things.””
The answer carried no accusation, but it made Tasha lower her gaze.
Marcus pulled out a chair.
“Let's get to it. You said you had something to show me.””
Tasha sat and opened a thick envelope.
“I found these when I was helping my mother clean out her storage room last month. She told me they were old family papers and that I should throw them away. But I recognized your father's name.””
She placed several photocopies on the table.
The first showed a bank statement dated twenty-eight years earlier. The account holder was Robert Brooks. Beneath his name was a second authorized signer: Denise Carter.
Marcus leaned closer.
“Why was Aunt Denise on Dad's account?””
“I don't know,” Tasha said.
“But the next document might explain it.””
The second page was a transfer authorization. A substantial amount of money had been moved from Robert's account into another account shortly before his disappearance.
Marcus stared at the figure.
“Where did the money go?””
Tasha pointed to the account number.
“This is the part I don't understand. The receiving account was opened under a different name, but the last four digits match an account my mother still uses.””
Marcus looked up sharply.
“Are you saying Denise took Dad's money?””
“I'm saying the records show a transfer. I don't know whether she was authorized to make it.””
Evelyn had gone pale.
“That money,” she whispered.
“Your father used to talk about money he'd been saving for Marcus.””
Marcus turned toward her.
“What money?””
“He said he wanted to put something aside for your education. He told me that when you turned eighteen, you'd have enough to go to college without worrying about loans.””
Marcus stared at the bank statement.
He had paid for college through scholarships, part-time work, and student loans. His father had never mentioned a fund.
“Did you know how much he had saved?””
“No. He wouldn't tell me the exact amount. He said he wanted it to be a surprise.””
Tasha pushed another document toward him.
“This was attached to the transfer record.””
It was a letter bearing Robert's signature.
The date was three days before his disappearance.
Marcus read it slowly.
The letter stated that the transfer was temporary and that the funds were to remain untouched until a legal dispute involving the family had been resolved. It also stated that no further withdrawals were authorized.
At the bottom, a handwritten note had been added.
Denise, this is the last time I will cover for you. Return what you took, or I will tell Evelyn everything.
Marcus looked up.
“What did she take?””
Tasha shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“Then why did you bring me these documents?””
“Because I found something else.””
She reached into the envelope and removed a small newspaper clipping.
The article was brief. It reported that Robert Brooks had been involved in a serious vehicle accident on a highway outside Columbus. He had been transported to a hospital, where he died two days later.
Marcus felt the room tilt.
“My father died in a car accident?””
Tasha nodded.
“I thought you knew.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“I was told he died at home from a sudden illness.””
Tasha closed her eyes.
“Oh, Marcus.””
Evelyn gripped the edge of the table.
“Where is the hospital?””
Tasha gave them the name.
Marcus immediately searched it on his phone. The hospital had since merged with another medical center, but its records department still maintained archived files.
He called and explained that he was the son of a deceased patient seeking information for family-history purposes. The representative could not release confidential records over the phone, but she told him how to submit a request.
Marcus wrote down the instructions.
Then he turned back to Tasha.
“Why didn't anybody tell me about the accident?””
“I don't know.””
“Did Denise know?””
“She was the person who handled the arrangements.””
Marcus felt a sharp, sickening certainty building inside him.
His aunt had helped arrange his father's affairs, controlled access to the family records, and apparently held authority over a bank account that had contained money intended for him.
She had also told his mother he was dead.
“How much money was in that account?”” he asked.
Tasha looked at the statement.
“Before the transfer, there was a little over two hundred thousand dollars.””
Marcus went still.
That was enough to pay for his education several times over. Enough to provide a stable home for his mother. Enough to change the course of several lives.
“Where did it go?””
“I don't know,” Tasha repeated.
“But the account was closed a few months later.””
Evelyn stared at the papers.
“Your father worked extra shifts for years to save that money,” she whispered.
“He barely bought anything for himself.””
Marcus could hear the pain in her voice. She was not mourning the money itself. She was mourning the future her husband had tried to secure for their child, a future that might have been stolen before either parent had the chance to protect it.
Tasha looked at her hands.
“There is something else.””
Marcus's patience was wearing thin.
“What now?””
“After your father died, my mother received letters from an attorney. I saw them when I was a teenager. She told me they concerned your inheritance, but she wouldn't explain anything.””
“Do you still have them?””
“I think so. There may be more documents in the storage room.””
“Then I want copies.””
Tasha nodded.
“I'll look.””
Marcus studied his cousin's face.
“Why are you helping me now?””
She looked up, startled by the question.
“Because I think my mother did something terrible.””
“That isn't an answer.””
Tasha's eyes filled.
“Because when I was seventeen, I found a photograph of your mother in one of her drawers. I asked why she kept it. She told me Evelyn was a woman who had abandoned her son and then tried to come back for money.””
Evelyn flinched.
Tasha continued, her voice growing smaller.
“I believed her. But I remember something else. After I asked about the photograph, my mother took it away and burned it in the kitchen sink. She told me never to mention Evelyn's name again.””
Marcus stared at her.
“You knew she had a photograph of my mother?””
“I didn't know what it meant. I was a teenager. I thought my mother was protecting the family.””
“Protecting the family from what?””
Tasha shook her head helplessly.
“I don't know.””
Marcus stood and gathered the documents.
“Then we find out.””
As they prepared to leave, Tasha caught his arm.
“Marcus, there's one thing you need to understand. My mother has been terrified of this day for years.””
“Terrified of what?””
“Of somebody finding out what happened to your father.””
Evelyn rose slowly from her chair.
“Did your mother hurt Robert?””
Tasha's face crumpled.
“I don't know.””
“Then why are you afraid?””
“Because a few months ago, I overheard her speaking to someone on the telephone. She said the records were finally safe and that nobody could connect her to the account anymore.””
Marcus's blood ran cold.
“Who was she talking to?””
“I couldn't hear the other person's voice. But before she hung up, she said something I'll never forget.””
Tasha looked directly at Evelyn.
“She said, 'The boy never knew his father was trying to save him.''”
Evelyn clutched the table.
Marcus felt a surge of anger so fierce that he had to force himself to breathe slowly.
His father had been trying to protect him. His mother had been searching for him. And somewhere between those two truths stood Denise, a woman who had shaped his entire childhood with a story that now appeared to have been deliberately constructed.
He placed the documents inside his jacket.
“I'm going to her house.””
Tasha jumped to her feet.
“Marcus, don't do that.””
“Why not?””
“Because you don't know what she's capable of.””
Marcus looked at her.
“My mother spent twenty-seven years not knowing whether I was alive. Whatever Denise is capable of, I'm done letting fear make decisions for me.””
He turned toward the exit.
Evelyn followed, but before they reached the doors, her phone rang.
She stared at the unfamiliar number.
Then she answered.
A woman's voice came through the speaker, cold and unmistakable.
“Evelyn Brooks. I hear you've been digging through things that don't belong to you.””
Evelyn froze.
Marcus reached for the phone.
“Denise?””
The voice paused.
Then Denise Carter spoke directly to him.
“Marcus, sweetheart. We need to talk.””
He tightened his grip on the phone.
“Then tell me why you lied to my mother.””
Denise gave a small, humorless laugh.
“Because your mother has never understood what really happened in that family.””
Marcus felt his jaw tighten.
“What really happened?””
Her voice dropped.
“Your father wasn't the man you think he was. And if you keep searching for answers, you may discover that your mother wasn't the only person he destroyed.””
The call ended.
Marcus stood motionless beneath the library's fluorescent lights.
For the first time, he understood that Denise was not simply trying to deny the accusations.
May you like
She was preparing to defend herself.
And she had just made one thing clear: whatever secret lay behind his father's death, she intended to keep it buried.
