Chapter 6 - MARGARET'S PERFECT FAMILY
Thomas Hawthorne's body had been cremated.
Margaret arranged it less than forty-eight hours after his death.
At the time, nobody questioned it.
Now everyone did.
Without a body, proving murder would be difficult.
But Thomas had been paranoid.
Paranoid men keep records.
Investigators found his cardiology files.
Thomas had a heart condition, but it was stable.
The night he died, Margaret was alone with him.
She told paramedics he collapsed after dinner.
There was no autopsy.
Then Lauren remembered something.
“Thomas took digitalis.”
A heart medication.
Certain doses could be lethal.
Pharmacy records showed Thomas's prescription had been refilled twice within one month before his death.
Too much medication.
Margaret claimed he lost the first bottle.
No one could prove otherwise.
Then Daniel Pierce provided another piece.
Thomas had planned to remove Margaret from Hawthorne Capital.
He had discovered she was moving money without him.
“He was going to divorce her,” Pierce said.
Ethan looked stunned.
“My father never told me.”
“Your father didn't tell you most things.”
The marriage everyone thought powerful and united had been rotting from inside.
Thomas and Margaret weren't partners anymore.
They were blackmailing each other.
Thomas kept evidence of Margaret's involvement in the trust fraud.
Margaret knew Thomas had threatened Lauren.
Each could destroy the other.
Then Thomas died.
Margaret inherited control.
Convenient.
Ethan sat across from me after questioning.
Our annulment hearing was four days away.
“I keep thinking about my childhood,” he said.
I didn't know why he was telling me.
Maybe because nobody else would listen.
“My mother controlled everything.”
“What I wore.”
“Who I dated.”
“Where I went to college.”
“My father controlled money.”
“If I disobeyed him, accounts disappeared.”
I said:
“That explains you.”
He looked at me.
“It doesn't excuse you.”
“No.”
At least he understood.
Then Ethan told me about his younger sister.
I hadn't known he had one.
Her name was Caroline.
She died at seventeen.
Car accident.
Margaret rarely mentioned her.
“What happened?”
“Caroline wanted to leave.”
“Leave where?”
“Our family.”
Caroline had been accepted to an art school in California.
Margaret refused.
Thomas threatened to cut her off.
Caroline stole Margaret's car and drove away during a storm.
She crashed.
Ethan had always blamed himself because Caroline called him that night.
He didn't answer.
“Mom told me family falls apart when children become selfish.”
I stared at him.
“She used your sister's death to control you.”
“Yes.”
For twenty years.
Suddenly I understood why Ethan always surrendered when Margaret entered a room.
But understanding wasn't reconciliation.
I could feel compassion for the child he had been without trusting the man he became.
The annulment was granted.
Our marriage legally ended after eleven days.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
One shouted:
“Claire, do you still love Ethan?”
I kept walking.
Another:
“Did you marry him for access to the Hawthorne family?”
I almost laughed.
Reality had apparently become too complicated for headlines.
That afternoon I removed Hawthorne from every account and returned to Bennett.
Claire Bennett.
My own name felt like coming home.
Then Margaret requested a private meeting.
Against Rebecca's advice, I agreed.
Not alone.
Two investigators watched from another room.
Margaret sat across from me in a secure conference facility.
No plum robe.
No pearls.
Gray suit.
She looked tired.
But not defeated.
“You've caused quite a mess.”
I stared.
“I caused it?”
“You could have signed.”
There it was.
No apology.
“You forged my name.”
“You were always going to receive enough money.”
“It wasn't yours to give.”
“Your grandfather built that fortune by destroying competitors.”
“So that makes stealing from me acceptable?”
Margaret leaned forward.
“You think this is about money?”
“Then tell me.”
“Hawthorne Capital employs eight hundred people.”
“So?”
“The Mercer vote would have saved us.”
“From what?”
She smiled.
“Your husband never told you?”
“My former husband.”
That bothered her.
“Hawthorne Capital is bankrupt.”
I froze.
Margaret had hidden it for years.
Thomas's fraud had created liabilities.
Bad investments followed.
The luxury redevelopment was their final rescue.
Without it, the company would collapse.
“You married Ethan to me to save the company.”
“I gave you a husband who genuinely loved you.”
“You assigned your son to me.”
“He fell in love with you.”
“After you selected me from a trust document.”
Margaret shrugged.
“People meet in stranger ways.”
I almost admired how she could turn moral horror into social inconvenience.
Then I asked:
“Did you poison my mother?”
For the first time, her face changed.
Small.
But visible.
“No.”
“Did Thomas?”
“No.”
“Did you know someone exposed her to heavy metals?”
Silence.
“Margaret.”
She looked toward the mirrored glass.
“You're recording this.”
“Assume everything is recorded.”
She smiled.
“Good girl.”
I hated hearing that.
Then she said:
“Your mother was never supposed to become sick.”
My heart stopped.
Not a denial.
“What was supposed to happen?”
“She was supposed to become frightened.”
“How?”
Margaret looked at me.
“Thomas hired someone to contaminate a supplement she took.”
My hands became fists.
“He wanted symptoms. Nothing permanent.”
“You knew.”
“I learned afterward.”
“And you did nothing.”
“She threatened my family.”
“My mother was poisoned.”
Margaret's voice hardened.
“So was mine.”
I stared.
“What?”
She leaned closer.
“Do you really think Thomas invented all this?”
Then Margaret told me about Arthur Mercer.
My grandfather.
The wealthy patriarch everyone had quietly treated as a victim of Hawthorne fraud.
According to Margaret, Arthur had taught Thomas how to manipulate trusts.
Arthur had used lawyers to hide assets, punish relatives, and control his daughter Evelyn.
Thomas learned from him.
Then surpassed him.
“My mother?”
“Your mother discovered what Arthur and Thomas were doing.”
“So she ran.”
“Yes.”
Margaret looked almost sympathetic.
“She was the only decent one among us.”
That hurt more than I expected.
Then I asked:
“Did you kill Thomas?”
Margaret smiled.
“No.”
But her eyes said something else.
Before the meeting ended, she whispered:
“If you want to know who killed Thomas, ask Ethan where he was the night his father died.”
I froze.
Ethan had told police he was in Boston.
Margaret's smile returned.
“My son has lied to you about many things, Claire.”
May you like
She stood.
“Why assume he's finally stopped?”
