Chapter 6 - THE GRANDDAUGHTER STEPHANIE ERASED
They contacted Emily through Helen’s investigator.
Not by phone.
Not email.
A message delivered through her university’s legal-services office requesting a confidential call.
Emily accepted.
When her face appeared on the secure screen, Margaret forgot every prepared question.
She looked like Daniel.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
Older now.
A woman instead of the little girl Margaret remembered drawing horses at the kitchen table.
“Grandma?”
Margaret began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Emily looked confused.
“For what?”
“For letting thirteen years pass.”
Emily’s face changed.
“You didn’t.”
Margaret froze.
“What?”
“I wrote to you.”
Silence.
“When?”
“Every year.”
Margaret’s chest tightened.
“I never received anything.”
Emily stared.
“My mom sent birthday cards. Graduation photos. Christmas letters.”
“None.”
Emily’s eyes filled.
Then anger.
“Aunt Stephanie told us you didn’t want contact.”
Margaret felt physically sick.
“What?”
“She said after Grandpa died, you wanted to move on from anything connected to Dad.”
“No.”
“Grandma—”
“No.”
Margaret pressed her hand to the screen as though she could reach through it.
“I would never.”
Emily started crying.
For thirteen years, Stephanie had separated them.
Why?
The trust.
The Tybee property.
Emily stood between Stephanie and control.
“What did Stephanie tell you recently?”
Emily wiped her face.
“That you were having memory problems.”
Of course.
“She said you might need assisted living soon.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“She also asked me to sign something.”
Helen leaned forward.
“What?”
Emily pulled a document from beside her laptop.
“A waiver.”
“Of what?”
“Any interest I might have in Grandpa’s trust.”
Margaret’s blood went cold.
“Did you sign?”
“No.”
Relief.
“Why?”
“Mom told me not to.”
Rachel.
Daniel’s widow.
Apparently far more involved than Margaret knew.
“Where is your mother?”
Emily hesitated.
“She’s sick.”
Margaret’s heart tightened.
“How sick?”
“Cancer.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
Stephanie knew?
Probably.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Emily looked bitter.
“We thought you didn’t care.”
The damage Stephanie created went far beyond money.
She stole years.
Then Emily said:
“Mom found something before she got sick.”
“What?”
“Dad’s old storage box.”
Daniel’s.
“He had documents from Grandpa.”
Donald.
“One was about Clinton.”
Margaret’s pulse increased.
“What did it say?”
Emily opened the box.
Old photocopy.
Partnership statements.
Checks.
A handwritten note from Daniel.
DAD THINKS CLINTON IS USING STEPHANIE TO GET ACCESS TO THE COMPANY MONEY.
Margaret stared.
“Company?”
Donald and Clinton’s residential partnership?
Emily continued.
“There’s more.”
Another note.
I FOLLOWED HIM TO CHARLESTON. HE MET DIANE CARTER AND A MAN NAMED VINCENT REED.
Margaret froze.
“Who is Vincent Reed?”
Nobody knew.
Then:
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, DAD NEEDS TO KNOW I WAS RIGHT.
Margaret stopped breathing.
Daniel wrote this before his car accident.
Seventeen years ago.
Her son had been investigating Clinton even before Donald did.
“What happened to Daniel’s car?”
It hurt to ask.
Rain.
Interstate.
Loss of control.
Truck collision.
Police called it an accident.
No reason to believe otherwise.
Emily said:
“Mom never believed it.”
Margaret stared.
“What?”
“She said Dad’s brakes had been serviced two days earlier.”
By who?
Emily checked.
“Carter Automotive.”
Margaret’s pulse slowed.
Carter.
Clinton’s family?
Helen searched archived business registration.
Carter Automotive Services.
Owner:
Frank Carter.
Clinton’s late father.
Margaret’s hands went numb.
This did not prove murder.
She repeated that internally.
It proved connection.
Nothing more.
Then Emily showed another document.
Receipt from Carter Automotive.
Service technician:
R. CARTER.
Margaret frowned.
“Who’s R. Carter?”
Emily looked at her.
“I thought you knew.”
“No.”
“Clinton had an older brother.”
Margaret stared.
“Stephanie told me Clinton was an only son.”
Emily shook her head.
“His brother’s name is Raymond.”
Helen searched.
Raymond Carter.
Former mechanic.
Arrested years ago for fraud.
Current location unknown.
Margaret’s phone buzzed again.
Unknown sender.
This time:
EMILY SHOULD NOT HAVE SHOWN YOU THE BRAKE RECEIPT.
Margaret went cold.
Whoever was messaging was watching the secure conversation somehow.
Then another message:
NOW THEY WILL MOVE RACHEL.
Emily’s face changed.
“What?”
Margaret stared at her.
“Where is your mother right now?”
Emily’s panic appeared instantly.
“At a treatment center outside Denver.”
Helen stood.
“Call security there.”
Emily grabbed her phone.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Then her phone rang.
Treatment center.
Emily answered.
Her face went white.
“What do you mean?”
Margaret’s heart pounded.
Emily whispered:
“When?”
Then ended the call.
“Mom checked out.”
“With who?”
Emily stared at the screen.
“A woman claiming to be my aunt.”
Margaret already knew.
“Stephanie?” she asked.
Emily shook her head.
“No.”
May you like
“Then who?”
“Diane Carter.”
