Chapter 9 - THE MONEY SENT TO A DEAD WOMAN
My mother had been dead for six years.
Yet someone had used her name to receive more than four million dollars.
I stared at the bank statement.
"No."
Vincent stood beside me.
"Lena—"
"No. She didn't do this."
"I don't believe she did."
I looked up.
"Then why is her name here?"
"Someone used her identity."
The investigators traced the account to a holding company connected to Nathan Calder.
The records showed repeated transfers from medical supply vendors.
Several payments had been disguised as consulting fees.
And one transaction appeared on the exact anniversary of Daniel Calder's death.
My stomach twisted.
"Why would Nathan use my mother's name?"
Vincent studied the records.
"To make it look like she was being paid for helping him."
I felt sick.
Even after her death, Nathan was trying to make my mother look guilty.
"Can we prove she wasn't involved?"
The investigator nodded cautiously.
"Financial records, account-opening documents, and forensic signatures may help establish who controlled the account."
I sat down.
For years, I'd wanted someone to say my mother was innocent.
Now the truth was emerging.
But every answer uncovered another lie.
That afternoon, Sophie contacted me again.
This time, she sent a location.
A small church outside Bellweather.
I showed Vincent immediately.
He didn't insist on coming alone.
Instead, he contacted the investigators.
Together, we arranged to meet Sophie safely.
When we arrived, she was sitting in the back pew.
Her eyes were red.
Her hands trembled.
The moment she saw me, she stood.
"Lena."
I rushed toward her.
We embraced.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Then she whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
I stepped back.
"Tell me what?"
She looked toward Vincent.
Her face crumpled.
"That I'm Daniel Calder's daughter."
Vincent approached slowly.
"Sophie."
She stared at him.
"You knew my father?"
He nodded.
"He was my younger brother."
Tears filled her eyes.
For the first time, Vincent looked completely uncertain.
He'd faced violent men without blinking.
He'd negotiated deals worth millions.
But standing before his brother's daughter, he seemed lost.
"May I hug you?" he asked.
Sophie nodded.
He embraced her carefully.
I turned away, wiping my eyes.
When they separated, Sophie took a folded notebook from her bag.
"Nathan made me sign documents when I turned eighteen."
Vincent frowned.
"What documents?"
"He said they were employment benefits."
She opened the notebook.
"I copied everything before he took the originals."
The documents included transfers of inherited shares, trust distributions, and property rights.
All signed under pressure.
All benefiting Nathan-controlled companies.
Vincent's face darkened.
"He stole your inheritance."
Sophie nodded.
"But that's not all."
She opened the final page.
A photograph showed Nathan meeting Everett in a parking garage.
Beside them stood a third person.
A woman.
I leaned closer.
My heart stopped.
Because the woman in the photograph wasn't a stranger.
She was my mother's former best friend.
May you like
Dr. Caroline Vale.
The physician who signed Margaret Brooks's death certificate.
Related Stories
