Chapter 10: The Night Margaret Died
For several seconds, nobody moved.
I stared at the newspaper clipping in my mother's hand.
The photograph showed her standing outside a burning house, wearing the same blue coat she had worn in countless family photographs.
Behind her, firefighters were carrying a stretcher toward an ambulance.
And somewhere inside that house, Margaret had died.
"Mom," I said slowly.
"What were you doing there?""
She looked at me.
"I went to see her.""
"Why?""
"Because she had contacted your grandfather.""
"About Claire?""
My mother nodded.
Emily stepped closer.
"What happened?""
My mother sat down, clutching the newspaper.
"Margaret wanted to tell David the truth about what Thomas had done. She had discovered that Thomas had been intercepting the money your father sent for Claire.""
I pulled out a chair.
"Start from the beginning.""
She took a trembling breath.
"Twenty-one years ago, Margaret contacted me. She said she had tried to reach David for months, but every letter had been returned. She believed something was wrong.""
"Did you know Thomas was lying about Claire being dead?""
"Not at first.""
"Then when?""
My mother looked at the photograph.
"Margaret showed me a letter from a private investigator. It contained evidence that Claire was alive. She also had copies of bank statements showing that Thomas had been taking the money David sent.""
Emily frowned.
"Why did she contact you instead of the police?""
"She was afraid. Thomas had threatened her.""
"Threatened her with what?""
My mother closed her eyes.
"He told her he could make sure she lost custody of Claire.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"And you went to see her?""
"Yes. I wanted to help.""
"What happened at the house?""
My mother began crying.
"When I arrived, Margaret was arguing with Thomas. He was shouting that she had no right to contact the family. She told him she was going to expose everything.""
"Was Claire there?""
"No. Margaret had sent her to stay with a friend.""
My mother paused.
"Then Thomas left.""
I leaned forward.
"What happened next?""
"I stayed with Margaret. We talked for nearly an hour. She gave me a sealed envelope for David.""
"What was inside?""
"I never opened it.""
"Where is it?""
My mother looked toward the newspaper clipping.
"Thomas took it.""
I felt anger rising.
"You let him?""
"He arrived while I was leaving. He told me to go home. He said he would take care of everything.""
"Then the house caught fire?""
She nodded.
"About forty minutes later, I received a call. The house was burning.""
I stared at her.
"Did you see Margaret's body?""
"No.""
"Did anyone?""
"The authorities said they had identified her.""
"How?""
"Through dental records.""
I looked at Emily.
Something wasn't right.
"Did you ever see the investigation report?""
My mother shook her head.
"Thomas handled everything.""
I stood up.
"Of course he did.""
Emily picked up the newspaper.
"Mom, why didn't you tell us?""
My mother looked at her.
"Because Thomas told me the fire was an accident. He said Margaret had been using an old heater. He also told me that if I spoke about the money or the letters, I could be accused of helping her steal from the estate.""
I looked at the photograph again.
There was something in the background.
A second figure.
A man standing beside a black car.
I brought the clipping closer.
"Who is that?""
My mother leaned forward.
Then she froze.
"That's Richard Cole.""
I felt my stomach drop.
The same lawyer who had prepared the guardianship petition.
The same man who had refused to answer my questions.
The same man Vanessa had introduced into our family's financial affairs.
I immediately photographed the clipping and sent it to Lauren.
Her reply came within seconds.
*Do not confront anyone. I'm contacting the investigator handling the estate matter.*
Then another message appeared.
*Michael, I found something. The fire investigation was reopened eight years ago, but the file was sealed after a witness withdrew their statement.*
I called her.
"Who was the witness?""
"Someone named Daniel Price.""
"Who is he?""
"A former employee of Thomas Harris.""
"Can you locate him?""
"I'm trying.""
I ended the call.
Emily was staring at the newspaper.
"Michael, what if Mom is telling the truth?""
I looked at her.
"What do you mean?""
"What if Thomas really did kill Margaret?""
My mother shook her head violently.
"I don't know what happened that night.""
I knelt beside her.
"Did you see Thomas return to the house?""
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Yes.""
"Before the fire?""
"Yes.""
"How long before?""
"Maybe ten minutes.""
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
She began sobbing.
"Because he told me he had gone back to retrieve a document. I didn't know anything was wrong.""
My phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
I answered.
"Michael Harris?""
"Yes.""
"My name is Daniel Price. Lauren Morgan gave me your number.""
I stood.
"You know about Margaret?""
There was a pause.
"I know what happened the night she died.""
My heartbeat quickened.
"Then tell me.""
"I can't do this over the phone.""
"Where are you?""
"At a motel outside Harrisburg.""
"Can I meet you?""
"Not alone.""
"Why?""
"Because Thomas has people watching me.""
I looked at Emily.
"Daniel, do you have proof?""
"I kept something.""
"What?""
"A recording.""
I gripped the phone.
"Of what?""
"Thomas talking to Richard Cole about the fire.""
I closed my eyes.
"Can you send it?""
"No. I need protection first.""
"Then we'll arrange it.""
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Michael, there's something else. The recording isn't just about Margaret.""
"What else?""
"It explains why your father disappeared.""
The call disconnected.
I looked at my mother.
She was crying silently.
Emily put her arms around her.
For the first time, I understood that the secrets in our family hadn't simply been hidden.
They had been used as weapons.
And everyone who tried to uncover them had paid a price.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Vanessa.
*I know you're going to see Daniel. Don't trust him.*
Another message followed.
*He was the one who helped Thomas burn the house.*
Then a final message.
*And Michael, the woman in the photograph wasn't Margaret.*
I stared at the screen.
I read the sentence again.
Then I looked at the newspaper clipping.
If the woman who died wasn't Margaret...
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Where had Margaret gone?
And whose body had the authorities actually found?
