Chapter 4: The Woman My Father Didn't Trust
For several seconds, nobody moved.
My mother's name sat at the bottom of the document in my father's handwriting.
Linda Morgan.
The same woman who had raised me.
The same woman who had cried on my shoulder after Dad's funeral.
The same woman who had spent eleven years telling me how much she had sacrificed.
And apparently, the same woman my father had accused of betraying him.
I looked at her.
“Tell me it's not true.””
Linda wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her cardigan.
“Your father was sick. He was confused near the end.””
Richard shook his head.
“Michael was perfectly capable of understanding what was happening.””
“Stay out of this!”” Linda snapped.
Richard placed both hands on the table.
“I'm not going to let you rewrite history again.””
My mother turned toward me.
“Emily, listen. Your father and I had problems. Every marriage does. He was controlling, and he didn't understand the pressure I was under.””
“What pressure?””
She looked away.
I pointed to the document.
“What did you do?””
“Nothing that wasn't necessary.””
Richard gave a bitter laugh.
“That's exactly what you said when Michael confronted you.””
My mother slapped the table.
“You promised you wouldn't bring that up!””
“I promised Michael I'd protect his children.””
I looked between them.
“What happened to Dad's money?””
Richard opened the leather folder again.
“Your father and I started a property investment company twenty-two years ago. He handled construction. I handled acquisitions. Linda helped with the bookkeeping.””
I remembered my mother sitting at the dining table late at night, surrounded by receipts and folders.
She had always said she was helping Dad.
Richard continued.
“Initially, everything worked. We purchased properties, renovated them, and rented them out. Your father wanted to build something that would support his family long after he retired.””
“And Mom?””
“She had access to the operating accounts.””
My mother crossed her arms.
“Because I was his wife.””
Richard nodded.
“Yes. And because he trusted you.””
He pulled out another document.
“Seven years before Michael died, we discovered that several hundred thousand dollars had disappeared from the company accounts.””
My stomach tightened.
“How much?””
“Three hundred and eighty thousand dollars initially.””
My mother shook her head.
“That money wasn't stolen.””
Richard looked at her.
“Then where did it go?””
She didn't answer.
He continued.
“We traced the transfers to an account under Linda's name. When Michael confronted her, she claimed she'd been investing in a separate business opportunity.””
I looked at my mother.
“Was that true?””
She pressed her lips together.
Richard placed another sheet on the table.
“The money was transferred into a private investment account. Most of it disappeared.””
“Where?””
“Linda refused to explain.””
My mother suddenly started crying again.
“You don't know what it was like! Your father controlled every dollar. I couldn't buy anything without explaining myself.””
I stared at her.
“You had access to hundreds of thousands of dollars?””
“That wasn't the point!””
“What was the point, Mom?””
She raised her voice.
“I wanted something of my own!””
The room went silent.
I felt as though I'd been punched.
For years, she'd told me she had nothing.
She'd made me believe the family was one unpaid bill away from losing everything.
Yet she'd apparently had access to money that could have paid off the house several times over.
Richard continued.
“Michael discovered that the money had been used to cover personal expenses and investments that never produced returns. He demanded an accounting.””
My mother sat down.
“He threatened to leave me.””
“Because you took his money?”” I asked.
“Because he never trusted me!””
I looked at the document again.
“Why did he change the trust?””
Richard turned a page.
“Because he wanted to make sure the properties couldn't be sold or transferred without oversight. He also wanted to protect you and Jason.””
I read the clause slowly.
The trust was designed to distribute rental income to the family. My mother could receive money for living expenses, but she couldn't sell the underlying properties without approval from the trustee.
And when I turned thirty-five, I would become the controlling beneficiary.
“Why me?”” I whispered.
Richard looked at me.
“Because Michael believed you were the only person who wouldn't treat the properties like a personal bank account.””
My eyes burned.
Dad had trusted me.
Even after eleven years, he had somehow tried to protect me.
I turned toward my mother.
“Why did you tell me the business collapsed?””
She looked down.
“Because I didn't want you interfering.””
“You let me believe we were poor.””
“I didn't ask you to do anything.””
I stared at her.
“You called me every month. You told me the mortgage was overdue. You told me the electricity would be disconnected. You cried because you couldn't afford groceries.””
“I was struggling!””
“You were receiving money from the trust!””
Linda stood.
“You think being a widow is easy?””
I didn't answer.
She pointed toward the door.
“You have no idea what I went through.””
Richard quietly interrupted.
“Linda, the trust distributed more than enough to cover the household expenses.””
She glared at him.
“Shut up.””
“Your daughter's payments were not required.””
My chest tightened.
I turned toward him.
“How much did I send her?””
Richard glanced at the bank statements I'd brought.
“Based on what you've shown me, approximately two hundred and sixty thousand dollars.””
The number seemed unreal.
Two hundred and sixty thousand.
Money I had earned working weekends, taking extra shifts, and postponing vacations.
Money I'd saved instead of spending on myself.
Money I'd believed was keeping my mother safe.
I looked at Linda.
“Where did it go?””
She wiped her nose.
“I needed it.””
“For what?””
She didn't respond.
Richard gathered the documents.
“Emily, I think we should stop here until Margaret Collins reviews everything.””
I nodded.
Then I noticed something.
One of the documents was dated six weeks earlier.
It was a request to amend the trust.
The signature at the bottom belonged to my mother.
But the approval section was blank.
I picked it up.
“What is this?””
Richard looked uncomfortable.
“An attempted amendment.””
“To do what?””
“Transfer control of the remaining properties to a private company.””
“Whose company?””
He hesitated.
“Hale Property Management.””
I looked at him.
“Your company?””
“Yes.””
My mother stepped forward.
“Richard was helping me.””
“Helping you steal control of Dad's trust?””
“Don't you dare!””
I held up the document.
“Why would you transfer everything to his company?””
Richard answered before she could.
“Because Linda believed you would never discover the arrangement before your thirty-fifth birthday.””
I looked at the date.
The request had been submitted two weeks before my mother's birthday party.
Suddenly, the extravagant celebration made sense.
She had been entertaining the very people who could help her.
I remembered the guests.
The expensive gifts.
The champagne.
And the way she had reacted when I said I was stopping the payments.
She hadn't just been angry about losing money.
She had been afraid of losing access.
I placed the document on the table.
“I'm taking this to my attorney.””
My mother grabbed my arm.
“Emily, please.””
I looked down at her fingers.
“Let go.””
“Your father wanted us to stay together.””
“My father wanted you to stop stealing from his children.””
She released me.
Then she whispered something that stopped me at the door.
“You don't know what Richard really wants.””
I turned.
“What does that mean?””
She looked directly at him.
“He didn't help your father because he was a good friend.””
Richard's expression hardened.
“Linda.””
She stepped closer to me.
“Ask him what happened the night your father died.””
Richard stood abruptly.
“That's enough.””
My heart began racing.
“What happened?””
Neither answered.
I looked at the man wearing my father's ring.
“Richard, what happened that night?””
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he said:
“Your father didn't die believing the business was in danger, Emily.””
May you like
He paused.
“He died believing someone was trying to kill him.””
