Chapter 7 - Margaret’s VoiceWe found an old cassette player at a pawnshop.
He walked in at 5:18 p.m., looked at Rachel Bell, and stopped.
His entire face collapsed.
“Margaret.”
Rachel stood.
“No.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Derek remained against the wall.
“Sit down.”
Dad looked at him.
“Son—”
“Don’t.”
I had never heard Derek speak like that.
Dad sat.
Robert closed the blinds.
No police were present. After Robert challenged the electronic evidence, detectives agreed not to arrest anyone while forensic specialists examined the company servers.
We had hours.
Maybe less.
I placed Grandpa’s police report on the table.
“Tell us.”
Dad stared at it.
“Your mother didn’t kill Margaret.”
“Then why was she there?”
Dad swallowed.
“Because I called her.”
My anger flared.
“You called your wife while driving with your girlfriend?”
“We were separated.”
“You know what I mean.”
He nodded.
“Margaret wanted me to take Derek and leave Connecticut.”
Derek’s face tightened.
“She wanted me?”
“Yes.”
“And Rachel?”
Dad looked at Rachel.
“I didn’t know you existed.”
Rachel’s eyes filled.
“I had no idea Margaret had another child until years later.”
“Why did she want to leave?”
“Eleanor was threatening custody.”
Mom had legally no claim then.
But she had money.
Connections.
And obsession.
Dad continued.
“Margaret and I fought that night. She drove away. I followed. Then I called Eleanor because I wanted her to stop threatening legal action.”
“You sent Mom after her?”
“No. I told Eleanor it was over.”
He rubbed his face.
“She found Margaret on Route 17.”
“What happened?”
“They argued at a gas station.”
“Then?”
“Margaret left. Eleanor followed.”
Rachel was crying silently now.
Dad’s voice shook.
“I was several minutes behind them. When I arrived, Margaret’s car was down the embankment.”
“And Mom?”
“Standing beside her car.”
“What did she say?”
“That Margaret lost control.”
“Did you believe her?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
Dad looked down.
“I found damage on Eleanor’s front bumper.”
Nobody moved.
Derek whispered, “She hit her.”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew there was damage.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell police?”
“No.”
Derek walked toward him.
“You let my mother die.”
Dad stood.
“I found you asleep at home that night.”
“What?”
“Margaret had left you with a sitter. I went there after the hospital. You woke up asking for her.”
His voice broke.
“I had just lost Margaret. I thought if Eleanor went to prison, you’d lose another mother before you even understood what death meant.”
“So you covered it up.”
“I made the worst decision of my life.”
Rachel stared at him.
“And me?”
“I didn’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I swear.”
Robert interrupted gently.
“Thomas, what does this have to do with the trust?”
Dad looked at me.
“Your grandfather learned about the crash damage.”
“When?”
“Years later.”
“He knew Mom might have caused it.”
“Yes.”
“He still stayed silent?”
“He confronted us. Eleanor denied everything. I begged him not to destroy the family without proof.”
“And Grandpa agreed?”
“For a while.”
Dad’s face darkened.
“Then he found Rachel.”
Rachel looked stunned.
“He knew about me?”
“Yes.”
Grandpa had apparently spent years locating Margaret’s second child.
“He created the trust as restitution,” Dad said. “The land belonged to Margaret’s family generations ago. He bought it back and planned to divide it between her children.”
“Why make me controlling shareholder?” I asked.
“Because he stopped trusting me.”
That answer hurt.
Dad continued.
“He believed Derek would eventually learn the truth and become vulnerable to Eleanor.”
Derek laughed.
“He was right.”
Dad nodded.
“He chose you because you were the only person in the family Eleanor couldn’t control.”
The pieces clicked together.
Mom had spent my entire childhood calling me difficult.
Stubborn.
Cold.
Ungrateful.
Grandpa had called those same traits independent.
“So what happens if Rachel claims the trust?” I asked.
Dad hesitated.
“Old files become discoverable.”
“About the crash.”
“Yes.”
Rachel folded her arms.
“So Eleanor offered me two million dollars to keep me from opening records that might prove she killed my mother.”
Dad flinched.
“We still don’t know she did.”
Rachel stood.
“I’m done protecting someone I’ve never even met.”
Then the conference-room door opened.
Mom walked in.
Nobody had invited her.
She wore the same camel-colored coat she wore to church.
Her makeup was perfect.
She looked at Rachel.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Mom said, “You have her eyes.”
Rachel replied, “I hope that bothers you.”
Derek moved between them.
Mom looked at him.
“Derek, come home.”
He laughed.
“You lied to me for forty years.”
“I raised you.”
“You erased her.”
“I loved you.”
“Then why did you tell my sister I wanted nothing to do with her?”
Mom’s eyes shifted toward Rachel.
“To protect you.”
“From what?”
“She wanted money.”
Rachel stared.
“I was a schoolteacher asking if my brother knew I existed.”
Mom ignored her.
Derek’s voice rose.
“You used my login to hire an investigator.”
“I needed information.”
“You forged Claire’s authorization.”
“I did what was necessary.”
Dad stood.
“Eleanor, stop.”
She turned on him.
“You don’t get to speak.”
For a second, the marriage mask vanished.
Decades of hatred flashed between them.
Mom pointed at Rachel.
“That woman’s mother tried to take my family.”
Rachel stepped forward.
“My mother is dead.”
Mom’s face hardened.
“She should have stayed away from my husband.”
Silence.
Then Rachel asked:
“Did you hit her car?”
Mom’s expression changed.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
So did Dad.
So did Derek.
Mom picked up her purse.
“You have no proof.”
She turned.
Robert spoke.
“Actually, Eleanor, we may.”
She stopped.
He placed the old cassette tape on the table.
Rachel had brought it from Margaret’s box.
A label was written across it.
FOR DEREK — IF I DON’T COME HOME.
May you like
Mom stared at the tape.
And for the first time in my life, my mother looked afraid.
Related Stories
