Chapter 9: The Insurance Policy
I couldn't take my eyes off the document.
My father's life insurance policy.
Three million dollars.
Eleanor Whitmore listed as the sole beneficiary.
The date of activation was six days before his hospitalization.
"That's not possible," I whispered.
Marcus looked sick.
"I've never seen this.""
Victoria snatched the phone from his hand.
"Your mother received three million dollars after our father died?""
Daniel examined the document.
"Not necessarily. We need to verify whether this is genuine.""
The investigator photographed the screen.
"We'll contact the insurer.""
I looked at Marcus.
"Did your mother ever mention an insurance policy?""
He shook his head.
"Never.""
"Did your family receive a large payment after my father died?""
He looked toward the floor.
"Yes.""
"How much?""
"Two point seven million.""
My knees weakened.
"From where?""
Marcus swallowed.
"My mother said it was repayment for an old business loan.""
I stared at him.
"She received almost three million dollars after my father died, and you never questioned it?""
"At the time, I was told the money belonged to the family.""
"Everything belongs to the family when your mother wants something, doesn't it?""
He didn't answer.
Victoria turned away.
"He's useless.""
Marcus looked up.
"Victoria, I know you hate me, but I want to help.""
She laughed without humor.
"Then start by telling the truth.""
He nodded slowly.
"I will.""
The investigator stepped between them.
"Let's keep everyone calm. We need to get these documents to the station.""
I looked at the insurance policy again.
Something about it bothered me.
The signature at the bottom was supposed to be my father's.
I zoomed in.
Then I noticed the date.
My father had been unconscious on that day, according to his hospital records.
"Daniel.""
He looked over.
"Yes?""
"Look at the signature.""
He examined the document.
Then he frowned.
"That's not your father's handwriting.""
Robert Hayes had once shown me dozens of my father's signatures. I knew the distinctive way he crossed the letter T.
This signature didn't have it.
"It's forged," I said.
The investigator nodded.
"That gives us another reason to investigate the policy.""
Victoria stared at the document.
"Why would Eleanor forge an insurance policy?""
I looked at the beneficiary.
"Because she wanted money.""
Victoria shook her head.
"No. She already had access to the money. She had the foundation.
She had the Whitmore business. She had your inheritance.""
I looked at her.
"Then what did she need the insurance for?""
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
"Because she needed a reason for our father to die.""
The room went silent.
Marcus stepped back.
"That's a serious accusation.""
Victoria turned toward him.
"Your mother was in his hospital room. She was involved in forged documents. She received money after his death. What else do you need?""
Marcus opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
I looked at the investigator.
"We need to find Eleanor.""
He nodded.
"We're already working on that.""
At the police station, we spent nearly four hours giving statements.
The investigator confirmed that the insurance company had no record of a valid policy under the document's number.
Someone had fabricated the paperwork.
But the bank transfers were real.
And the payments made to the foundation were real.
The fraud investigation was becoming larger by the hour.
At 7:45 p.m., Daniel returned from a meeting with the district attorney.
He carried a new folder.
"They've identified one of the companies receiving the foundation transfers.""
"Which one?""
"Whitmore Medical Consulting.""
Marcus frowned.
"We don't own a medical consulting company.""
Daniel opened the folder.
"Your mother does.""
I looked at the registration documents.
The company had been established two weeks before my father's hospitalization.
Its registered director was Eleanor.
Its financial administrator was Richard Cole.
And its medical adviser was Samuel Reed.
The doctor.
I stared at the names.
"They were all working together.""
"That's what the financial records suggest," Daniel replied.
Victoria leaned over the table.
"Can we find my mother through the payments?""
Daniel nodded.
"We've identified several transfers to a private rehabilitation facility.""
"Where?""
He gave us the address.
Victoria immediately grabbed her coat.
"I'm going.""
The investigator raised a hand.
"We'll arrange an official visit.""
"She's my mother!""
"I understand.""
"No, you don't!""
Victoria's voice cracked.
"My mother spent years believing nobody was coming for her. I'm not sitting in another room while people decide whether she's worth saving.""
I walked over and took her hand.
"We'll go together.""
She looked at me.
For the first time since meeting her, I saw the frightened child behind her anger.
She nodded.
The rehabilitation facility stood on a quiet road outside the city.
It was surrounded by trees and a tall iron fence.
A security guard checked our identification before allowing us inside.
A nurse led us down a long corridor.
"Mrs. Carter is in room 214," she said.
Victoria stopped walking.
"Is she awake?""
"She was sleeping earlier.""
We entered quietly.
Margaret sat beside the window in a pale blue sweater.
She looked older than the woman in the photograph.
Her hair was almost entirely gray.
But when she turned, her eyes immediately filled.
"Victoria?""
Victoria rushed toward her.
"Mom.""
They embraced.
I stood near the doorway.
Margaret looked over Victoria's shoulder.
Then she saw me.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh, my God.""
I approached slowly.
"I'm Nia.""
Margaret began crying.
"I know.""
She reached for my hand.
"Your father talked about you every day.""
I swallowed.
"Did you know about me?""
"Of course. Thomas showed me your photographs. He wanted us to meet.""
"Why didn't we?""
Margaret closed her eyes.
"Because Eleanor wouldn't let it happen.""
Victoria sat beside her.
"Mom, tell us what happened.""
Margaret looked toward the door.
Then she lowered her voice.
"Eleanor told me your father had died because he refused to give her what she wanted.""
I felt a chill.
"What did she want?""
"Control of his company. Control of the trust. And something else.""
"What?""
Margaret gripped my hand.
"Your father's original will.""
Daniel stepped forward.
"Do you know where it is?""
Margaret nodded.
"Thomas gave it to me before he died.""
I stared at her.
"Where?""
She looked at Victoria.
Then back at me.
"I hid it.""
"Where?""
Margaret reached beneath her pillow and removed a small folded photograph.
It showed a wooden house near a lake.
On the back was an address.
"Your father used to take me there," she whispered.
"He said it was the one place Eleanor would never think to look.""
Victoria examined the photograph.
"What's inside?""
Margaret's eyes filled again.
"Everything.""
I leaned closer.
"Everything about what?""
She looked directly at me.
"About the night your father died. About the money. About Victoria's disappearance.""
Then her voice dropped to a whisper.
"And about the man Eleanor paid to make sure Thomas never woke up.""
I felt my blood turn cold.
"Who?""
Margaret closed her eyes.
For several seconds, I thought she wouldn't answer.
Then she whispered a name.
"Marcus.""
The room went completely silent.
My husband stood frozen behind Daniel.
Margaret opened her eyes and looked at him.
"Your mother didn't do it alone, Nia.""
She began to cry.
"Marcus was there.""
I turned slowly.
My husband shook his head.
"No.""
Margaret pointed toward him.
"I saw him.""
Marcus stumbled backward.
"That's not true.""
Victoria stood.
"Mom, are you sure?""
Margaret nodded.
"He came into the hospital room after Eleanor left. He was carrying a small envelope.""
I stared at my husband.
The envelope from the hospital.
The one he had admitted carrying out.
"Marcus," I whispered.
He looked at me with tears in his eyes.
"I swear I didn't know what was inside.""
Margaret gripped my hand harder.
Then she said something that shattered the last remaining piece of trust I had in him.
"Your father was still alive when Marcus entered that room.""
I couldn't breathe.
"How do you know?""
Margaret's voice trembled.
"Because Thomas called my name.""
She looked directly at Marcus.
"And Marcus told him to be quiet.""
Marcus covered his face.
Then my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice whispered:
"Mrs. Whitmore, if you want to know whether your husband helped kill your father, you'd better get to that lake house before Eleanor does.""
I froze.
"Who is this?""
The man took a shaky breath.
"I'm Richard Cole.""
A pause.
Then he added:
"And I have the original recording of what happened after Marcus left your father's room.""
The call disconnected.
I looked at Daniel.
Then at Victoria.
Marcus stood motionless beside the hospital bed.
May you like
For six years, I had believed my husband had simply failed to protect me.
Now I was beginning to fear he had helped destroy the man who had loved me first.
