Chapter 9: The Money in My Sister's Name
I couldn't feel my fingers.
I held the phone against my ear and stared at Brielle.
She was shaking her head.
"No," she whispered.
"No, that's not true.""
"Laura," I said carefully, "how much money are we talking about?""
"Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.""
Brielle stood so quickly that her chair scraped across the floor.
"I never received that money!""
Laura continued.
"The account is registered under a company with your sister listed as the beneficial owner.""
"What company?""
"BC Lifestyle Holdings.""
Brielle covered her mouth.
I recognized the name.
She had mentioned it months earlier when talking about starting an online fashion business.
I had assumed it was an idea she had never pursued.
"Is Brielle the only person connected to the company?""
"No. There are two additional directors.""
"Who?""
Laura hesitated.
"Marcus Whitmore and Patricia Whitmore.""
My stomach dropped.
I looked at my mother.
Rebecca was already writing everything down.
"Laura, why are you telling me this?""
"Because I was instructed to destroy the payment records.""
"By whom?""
"My supervisor.""
"Who is your supervisor?""
"Mr. Whitmore.""
She lowered her voice further.
"I copied the authorization before he could delete it. I don't think you understand how serious this is.""
"Then explain it.""
"The four hundred and fifty thousand dollars came from the hotel development account. But the reference number links it to the twelve-million-dollar transfer.""
I looked at the documents on the desk.
"Are you saying the money came from my father's trust?""
"I can't prove that from the records I have. But the timing matches.""
"Can you send us the documents?""
"Not through company email. They monitor everything.""
"Then how can we get them?""
"I have a printed copy. I can meet you tomorrow.""
Rebecca leaned toward me.
"Tell her not to transfer or alter anything. We'll arrange a secure meeting.""
I repeated the message.
Laura agreed.
Then she said something else.
"Miss Carter, there's one more thing.""
"What?""
"Your husband wasn't the person who created the offshore account.""
I closed my eyes.
"Who did?""
Laura answered quietly.
"Your uncle, Thomas Carter.""
The call ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Brielle began crying.
"I swear I didn't know.""
I looked at her.
"How could your name be on an offshore company and you not know?""
"Marcus told me he needed a company for an investment project. He said it was temporary.""
"Did you sign anything?""
She nodded.
"What?""
"Some registration forms. He said I would be a director.""
"Did you read them?""
She shook her head.
I stared at her.
"You're telling me you signed legal documents without reading them?""
"I trusted him!""
"So did I.""
My voice cracked.
The room fell silent.
Brielle looked at me.
I could see the guilt on her face, but I was too angry to comfort her.
My mother stood beside the window.
"Rebecca, I want the bank to freeze any remaining accounts connected to the trust.""
Rebecca nodded.
"I'll prepare the application. But we'll need to move carefully. We don't want to alert anyone before the evidence is secured.""
Richard looked at the old letter.
"Daniel would have wanted the girls protected.""
Mom looked at him.
"Then help us protect them.""
He nodded.
The following afternoon, Laura agreed to meet us at a small hotel café near the business district.
Rebecca insisted on attending.
Brielle came too.
She had barely spoken since the previous night.
Laura arrived wearing a dark coat and carrying a brown envelope.
She looked over her shoulder twice before sitting down.
"Thank you for coming," I said.
She placed the envelope on the table.
"I don't want anyone to know I gave you this.""
Rebecca opened it.
Inside were printed payment records, internal emails, and a company registration certificate.
The first document showed the four hundred and fifty thousand dollar transfer.
The second showed the offshore account details.
The third was an email chain between Thomas, Marcus, and Patricia.
Rebecca began reading silently.
Then she stopped.
"Miss Carter, you need to see this.""
She turned the laptop screen toward us.
The email was dated six weeks before my wedding.
Thomas had written:
Once the marriage is completed, Marcus will have sufficient access to the family structure to proceed with the final transfer. Keep the younger sister involved. She is useful because she already has the necessary documents.
Brielle began shaking.
"I was useful?""
Laura looked down.
"There's more.""
She pointed to another email.
This one was from Patricia.
Evelyn must remain unaware until the transfer clears. If she discovers the old trust arrangement, she could stop everything.
Mom's jaw tightened.
Then I noticed an attachment.
It was a scanned document titled:
*CARTER LEGACY TRUST — BENEFICIARY CONSENT.*
My name was listed first.
Brielle's was second.
The document claimed that both of us had agreed to release our rights to the original properties.
At the bottom were two signatures.
Mine.
And Brielle's.
I looked at my sister.
"Did you sign this?""
She shook her head violently.
"No. I've never seen that.""
I examined the signature.
It looked real.
But the date was wrong.
The document claimed it had been signed two months earlier.
At that time, Brielle had been overseas.
She had posted photographs from a resort in Greece.
I remembered because she had complained that her flight home had been delayed.
Rebecca examined the page.
"This is extremely important. We need to preserve the original electronic file and establish its source.""
Laura nodded.
"There's another copy in the company archive.""
"Can you access it?""
"Not anymore. My login was disabled this morning.""
She took a breath.
"That's why I came here.""
Rebecca looked at her carefully.
"Did someone discover you copied the records?""
Laura nodded.
"Mr. Whitmore called me into his office this morning. He asked whether I'd spoken to anyone outside the company.""
"What did you say?""
"I said no.""
"Did he believe you?""
Laura shook her head.
"He told me that if I valued my job, I should stop asking questions.""
I looked at the email again.
My uncle.
My former fiancé.
My sister.
My future mother-in-law.
They had all been involved in different ways.
But I still couldn't understand one thing.
Why had Thomas chosen my father's trust?
Why not simply take money from the struggling hotel business?
Then Rebecca found another attachment.
It was a property ownership schedule.
Three commercial properties were listed.
One was a hotel in Chicago.
Another was a shopping complex in Boston.
The third was an office building in New York.
Together, they were worth considerably more than the twelve million dollars transferred.
But the final line made my mother gasp.
It read:
*TRANSFER OF CONTROLLING INTEREST — EFFECTIVE UPON BENEFICIARY MARRIAGE.*
I looked at Rebecca.
"What does that mean?""
She read the supporting note.
Then she turned to my mother.
"It means they weren't only trying to access the money.""
Mom's face went pale.
"They wanted the properties.""
Rebecca nodded.
"And the marriage was supposed to trigger the transfer.""
I remembered Marcus's message.
Make sure Nia doesn't find out about the trust until after the ceremony.
Suddenly, the wedding made sense.
The urgency.
The insistence that we marry before the end of October.
Patricia's strange interest in my mother's finances.
Brielle's payments.
They hadn't needed me to sign anything after the wedding.
They had planned to use the marriage itself as proof that the transfer conditions had been satisfied.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Marcus.
*Marcus: I know you've been talking to Laura. You need to stop before you destroy everyone's lives.*
A second message arrived.
*Marcus: Meet me tonight. Come alone. I can explain what my father really did.*
I showed Rebecca.
She immediately shook her head.
"Don't meet him alone.""
I typed a reply.
*Me: What did your father do?*
The response came almost instantly.
*Marcus: He didn't steal the money. He was following instructions from someone in your family.*
My heart began pounding.
Another message appeared.
*Marcus: Your mother knows who gave him the original trust documents. Ask her what happened three days before your father died.*
I slowly lifted my eyes toward Mom.
She was staring at my phone.
Her face had lost all its color.
"Mom?""
She didn't answer.
"Did you give them Dad's documents?""
Her eyes filled with tears.
Then she whispered:
"There's something about your father's final days that I never told you.""
She reached for the brown envelope.
And before Rebecca could stop her, she pulled out a photograph from inside.
It showed my father standing outside a hospital room.
Beside him was Thomas.
And behind them, holding a leather briefcase, was Patricia Whitmore.
The photograph was dated three days before my father died.
My mother looked at it for a long moment.
Then she said:
"Patricia wasn't a stranger to your father, Nia.""
She turned the photograph over.
There was a handwritten sentence on the back.
*If anything happens to me, don't let Patricia near my daughters.*
I looked at my mother.
"Who was she to Dad?""
Mom closed her eyes.
May you like
Then she gave me an answer I never could have imagined.
"She was the woman your father was planning to expose.""
