Chapter 6 - The Last Night of Eleanor HayesThe county medical examiner had called Grandma’s death natural.
Jason met us at Thomas’s office.
He looked as though he had aged ten years overnight.
No expensive jacket.
No confident smile.
Just jeans, work boots, and a manila folder beneath his arm.
“I brought everything.”
He placed financial statements on the conference table.
Thomas scanned them.
“You’re insolvent.”
“I know.”
“How long?”
“Almost a year.”
I stared at Jason.
“You told everyone business was booming.”
“It looked like it was.”
He explained how Dad had expanded aggressively.
New trucks.
Excavators.
Commercial contracts.
A second office.
Then interest rates rose, two major projects stalled, and one client filed bankruptcy owing Hayes Construction nearly $2 million.
Dad borrowed against equipment.
Then borrowed against receivables.
Then North Ridge appeared.
“They knew exactly when to come,” Jason said.
“They knew because Dad had worked with them before,” I replied.
Jason nodded.
“The company was drowning. They offered three million for an exclusive development option tied to Grandma’s property.”
“Which neither of you owned.”
“Yes.”
“And you signed it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Jason looked at me.
“Because fifty-two people came to work every morning believing I knew what I was doing.”
That answer angered me because I understood it.
Leadership does strange things to people.
The fear of admitting failure can become more dangerous than the failure itself.
“You should’ve told them the truth.”
“I know that now.”
Thomas removed his glasses.
“What happened to Frank?”
Jason’s expression darkened.
“He withdrew six hundred thousand from our reserve account at 2:13 this morning.”
“Can he do that?”
“He still owns fifty-one percent.”
“Where would he go?”
Jason shrugged.
Then I remembered Grandma’s ledger.
A name.
Keller.
I opened the scanned pages.
“Who is Martin Keller?”
Jason went still.
“North Ridge regional director.”
“Where does he live?”
“Denver.”
I showed Thomas the photograph Grandma had hidden.
Dad was handing a folder to a younger Keller.
Jason stared at it.
“I’ve never seen that.”
“So Dad’s relationship with Keller goes back twenty years.”
Jason sat down.
“This wasn’t just a business deal.”
“No.”
The door opened.
Agent Mercer entered.
I had called him from the storage facility after discovering evidence that might involve fraudulent land transfers and financial crimes.
He brought a county investigator with him.
Mercer listened while we explained everything.
Then he turned to Jason.
“Were you involved in creating forged property documents?”
“No.”
“Did you sign contracts representing that you controlled property you didn’t own?”
Jason hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did you receive money based on that representation?”
“Yes.”
I watched my brother’s face drain of color.
Mercer’s voice remained neutral.
“You should retain an attorney.”
“I already called one.”
“Good.”
Jason swallowed.
“Am I being arrested?”
“Not by me. Not today.”
The phrase not today hung in the room.
Thomas asked, “What about Frank?”
“That depends on where he is and what evidence establishes.”
My phone rang.
Mom.
I stepped into the hallway.
“Rebecca?”
She sounded frightened.
“What happened?”
“Your father came home.”
“When?”
“About three.”
“He took money from the company.”
“I know.”
Of course she knew.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom.”
“He said he needed to fix something.”
“What?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
Then her voice dropped.
“But he took Grandpa’s gun.”
My stomach tightened.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Did he threaten anyone?”
“No.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
Silence.
“Mom.”
“He asked where you were.”
I closed my eyes.
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I didn’t know.”
“Did he believe you?”
“I don’t think so.”
I signaled Mercer.
He came toward me.
Then Mom whispered:
“Rebecca, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“The night your grandmother died…”
She began crying.
I waited.
“Your father was with her.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
“He came home around midnight. He was upset.”
“Grandma died at eleven thirty.”
“I know.”
“You told me Dad was home.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“He said people would think he caused her death.”
“Did he?”
“No! Your grandmother had a heart condition.”
“But you don’t know what happened.”
Mom sobbed.
“No.”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
“Why would he be there?”
“He wanted her to sign something.”
Jason had come into the hallway.
He heard.
His face changed.
“What did Mom say?”
I put the call on speaker.
“Mom,” Jason said. “What papers?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Dad tell you Grandma signed?”
“No.”
Mom took a shaky breath.
“He said, ‘The old woman finally understood what she’d done.’”
Nobody spoke.
Then Mercer asked:
“Mrs. Hayes, is there any chance Frank still has access to your mother-in-law’s property?”
Mom went silent.
My skin prickled.
“Mom?”
“There’s an old key.”
I looked at Jason.
He shook his head.
“We changed the locks.”
Mom whispered:
“Not to the house.”
“What, then?”
“The storm cellar.”
Jason’s head snapped toward me.
Grandma’s storm cellar sat seventy yards behind the barn.
We had not checked it.
Mercer moved immediately.
“We’re going back.”
Snow had started falling harder when we reached the property.
The storm-cellar doors were open.
Footprints led inside.
Fresh footprints.
We descended cautiously.
At the bottom, shelves lined the concrete walls.
Old preserves.
Tools.
Emergency supplies.
And, in the center of the floor, a metal cabinet stood open.
Empty.
Jason swore.
Then I saw writing on the wall.
Black marker.
Large letters.
YOU SHOULD HAVE SIGNED.
Mercer photographed it.
I noticed something beneath a shelf.
A torn envelope.
Inside was part of a document.
Only the bottom survived.
But one signature was visible.
Eleanor Hayes.
Thomas examined it.
“That’s her real signature.”
“What did she sign?”
He looked at the partial title.
Then his face changed.
“Rebecca…”
“What?”
“This appears to be an easement deed.”
My stomach dropped.
“If the rest exists, North Ridge may already have what they need.”
Jason leaned against the wall.
“But Grandma refused.”
May you like
“Apparently,” Thomas said slowly, “something happened on the night she died.”
And if Dad possessed the complete document, Grandma’s final wish could be destroyed before we ever had a chance to protect it.
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