Chapter 4: The Woman Sarah Was Afraid Of
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
My mother was crying on the other end of the phone, and I was standing in the kitchen where my daughter had been afraid to eat dinner only hours earlier.
“Mom,” I finally said, “what do you mean Vanessa wasn't a stranger to our family?””
She sniffed.
“Your father knew her.””
I frowned.
“My father?””
“He met her years ago. Before you and Sarah got married.””
I looked toward the staircase.
“What does that have to do with Sarah?””
My mother hesitated.
“Vanessa worked for your father's company. She was young, ambitious, and very good at getting people to trust her.””
I remembered my father mentioning a former assistant who had caused trouble before he retired.
I had never connected that story to Vanessa.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because your father asked me not to.””
“Dad is dead, Mom. He can't ask you for anything anymore.””
She began crying harder.
“Michael, you don't understand. Your father discovered that Vanessa had been accessing confidential family documents. There was an investigation, but nothing could be proven. She resigned before the company could take further action.””
I rubbed my forehead.
“And Sarah knew?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
“Sarah found some old correspondence in your father's office. She recognized Vanessa's name.””
I sat down.
“What did Sarah say?””
My mother took a shaky breath.
“She told me Vanessa had contacted her. She wanted information about your family's property and financial arrangements.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why would Sarah have that information?””
“Because your father had made her the executor of a small family trust for the children.””
I stared at the wall.
A trust.
I remembered the documents. My father had established it shortly before his death, leaving money for Mason and Lily's education.
But I had always believed Sarah was simply managing the paperwork.
“Was Vanessa trying to get the money?””
“I don't know.””
“Mom, stop protecting her.””
“I am not protecting her!””
“Then tell me everything.””
There was a long silence.
Finally, my mother spoke.
“Sarah came to see me two days before she died. She brought a folder. She said Vanessa had been asking questions about the trust and had somehow obtained copies of documents that should have been private.””
“What was in the folder?””
“I never opened it.””
“Where is it?””
My mother started crying again.
“I gave it to Vanessa.””
I stood so quickly that my chair fell backward.
“You did WHAT?””
“She told me she needed it to settle everything. She said Sarah was confused and that the family could be dragged into something terrible if the papers became public.””
“Mom, those were Sarah's documents!””
“I know!””
“Then why would you give them away?””
“Because Vanessa told me Sarah had been having psychological problems. She said your wife was becoming paranoid and that she was trying to accuse innocent people.””
I closed my eyes.
Sarah had never been paranoid.
She had been afraid.
And the people closest to her had apparently spent the last days of her life convincing one another not to listen.
“Where is Vanessa now?”” I asked.
“I don't know.””
“Has she contacted you tonight?””
My mother didn't answer quickly enough.
“Mom?””
“She called me this afternoon.””
My blood ran cold.
“What did she want?””
“She asked whether I still had the original documents.””
“And what did you tell her?””
“I told her I didn't.””
I looked at the laptop.
The recording was still open.
“Did she mention me?””
My mother whispered, “She said you were becoming suspicious.””
I swallowed.
“Did she tell you what she planned to do?””
Another pause.
Then my mother said, “She asked me to help convince you to sign something tomorrow.””
My stomach dropped.
“What?””
“She said it was an ordinary guardianship document. She wanted you to give her temporary authority over the children while you traveled.””
I gripped the phone.
“I'm not signing anything.””
“I know.””
“Mom, did you sign something already?””
She didn't respond.
I closed my eyes.
“Mom.””
“I signed a statement.””
“What statement?””
“She said it was only to confirm that Vanessa had been helping raise the children.””
I sat down slowly.
“Did you read it?””
“I thought I did.””
“What did you sign?””
My mother began sobbing.
“I don't know anymore.””
The call ended shortly afterward.
I stared at my phone.
Then I called Robert.
He answered immediately.
“Michael?””
“My mother just told me Vanessa was involved in my father's company years ago. She also mentioned a family trust.””
Robert became silent.
“Did she say who prepared the trust?””
“My father.””
“Then I need the original documents.””
“Vanessa may have them.””
“Do you know where?””
I thought about the storage box.
The USB drive.
The notebook.
Then I remembered something.
Vanessa had a habit of taking phone calls in the garden shed. She said she liked the privacy because the house was noisy.
There was a small filing cabinet in there.
I had never paid attention to it.
“Robert, I think there may be more documents at my house.””
“Don't go searching alone.””
“I won't.””
After we ended the call, I contacted Daniel.
He agreed to meet me at the property with a locksmith and help secure anything that belonged to me or the children.
Before leaving, I checked my phone.
There were eleven missed calls from Vanessa.
One message.
Michael, we need to talk. Your mother is making everything worse.
I didn't reply.
A second message arrived.
Please don't involve lawyers. Think about the children.
Then a third.
I know what Sarah told you. You're making a terrible mistake.
I stared at that last sentence.
She knew.
Somehow, she knew exactly what my mother had told me.
At 11:40 p.m., Daniel arrived.
We went straight to the garden shed.
The cabinet was locked, but the key was hanging from a hook beside the door.
Inside were several folders, two old phones, and a thick envelope addressed to Vanessa.
Daniel picked up one of the phones.
“Looks like she kept an old device.””
I opened the envelope.
Inside were photocopies of Sarah's trust documents.
There were also several printed emails between Vanessa and an unknown sender.
The earliest dated back almost six years.
One message caught my attention.
The children are the key. Once Sarah is gone, Michael will eventually need help. Make sure you're the person he trusts.
I read it twice.
Daniel leaned over my shoulder.
“Who sent that?””
The email address was unfamiliar.
But the signature at the bottom was not.
*Evelyn.*
My mother.
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
Daniel took the page.
“Michael, look at the date.””
It was sent four months before Sarah died.
I shook my head.
“No. Mom couldn't have been involved that early.””
Daniel didn't argue.
He simply turned the page.
There was another email.
This one had been sent two weeks after Sarah's funeral.
He is grieving. Give him time. Once he starts depending on you, he will stop asking questions.
I stared at the words.
Then I noticed an attachment.
It was a scanned photograph.
Sarah was standing outside a hospital entrance.
Beside her was a woman wearing a dark coat.
Vanessa.
And behind them, partially visible through the glass doors, was my mother.
Daniel whispered, “Michael…”
I zoomed in on the photograph.
The date was printed beneath it.
*Three days before Sarah died.*
My phone vibrated.
An incoming call.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman's voice spoke immediately.
“Mr. Bennett?””
“Yes?””
“My name is Claire. I used to work at St. Mary's Hospital.””
I straightened.
“What is this about?””
There was a pause.
May you like
Then she said:
“I knew your first wife. And I think you deserve to know who was in her hospital room the night she died.””
