Chapter 6
I stared at the message until the letters blurred.
Bring me the key.
My hand closed around the brass key in my coat pocket.
Police arrived within minutes.
I showed them everything.
The broken room.
The messages.
The photograph.
Officer Reyes wasn't among them, but the responding officers contacted her station.
James brought Emily inside only after police cleared the house.
My daughter took one look at the overturned furniture and whispered, “Grandma Linda?”
“We're going to find her.”
“Did Grandma Patricia take her?”
I didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Emily started crying.
James knelt beside her.
“Emily, look at me.”
She hesitated.
He kept his voice calm.
“There are a lot of adults working on this now. Your job is to stay close to your mom.”
She nodded.
Then her eyes moved to his face.
“Are you still my grandpa?”
James froze.
I did too.
The question came from everything she had overheard at the bank.
All the talk about fathers.
Blood.
Secrets.
James's voice cracked.
“Yes.”
Emily looked at me.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
James blinked quickly and turned away.
My mother's security camera had been ripped from the porch wall.
But a neighbor across the street had one.
The footage showed a dark SUV pulling into my mother's driveway twenty minutes before we arrived.
Patricia got out.
So did Daniel.
My stomach turned.
Daniel had made bail and gone straight to my mother's house.
The video showed Patricia entering first.
Daniel remained outside.
Seven minutes later, they both came out.
My mother was between them.
She wasn't restrained.
But Daniel had one hand around her arm.
Patricia opened the rear door.
They pushed her inside.
Then they drove away.
The detective looked at me.
“Do you recognize the vehicle?”
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
“Patricia's.”
James shook his head.
“No. Hers is white.”
I looked again.
He was right.
The SUV in the video was black.
James zoomed in on the image.
Then he whispered, “I know that car.”
“Whose?”
He looked at me.
“Daniel's attorney.”
I felt sick.
“His attorney helped them?”
“I don't know.”
The detective wrote down the name.
Forty minutes later, they discovered the SUV had been reported stolen that morning.
Not by Daniel's attorney.
From his office parking garage.
That didn't make me feel better.
It made everything worse.
This wasn't impulsive.
Someone had planned it.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
The detective told me to answer on speaker.
“Hello?”
My mother's voice came through.
“Sarah.”
I almost collapsed.
“Mom. Where are you?”
“I'm okay.”
She didn't sound okay.
“Tell me where you are.”
“I can't.”
Patricia's voice appeared in the background.
“Give me the phone.”
Then she was speaking directly to me.
“Sarah, this has gotten completely out of control.”
I stared at the detective.
He began signaling to another officer.
“Where is my mother?”
“Safe.”
“You kidnapped her.”
“Don't be dramatic.”
I almost laughed.
“You forced her into a car.”
“She came voluntarily.”
“My neighbor has video.”
Silence.
Only one second.
But I heard the change.
Patricia hadn't known.
Daniel spoke in the background.
“Mom.”
She ignored him.
“You have something that belongs to me.”
“The key?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because James stole private property.”
“It opens letters addressed to me.”
“Not only letters.”
My heart pounded.
“What else?”
Patricia laughed softly.
“You opened the box, didn't you?”
I said nothing.
“You found Robert's video?”
My eyes moved toward the flash drive in my bag.
“Yes.”
“Did you watch it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The word came too quickly.
“Why?”
“Bring me the key and the drive.”
“No.”
My mother's voice suddenly screamed, “Don't!”
A crash followed.
I stood.
“Mom!”
The detective motioned for me to keep her talking.
Patricia came back.
“She slipped.”
“If you hurt her—”
“What are you going to do, Sarah?”
Her voice had changed.
The polished grandmother was gone.
The woman who criticized my cooking, my clothes, my job, my parenting.
Gone.
This woman sounded desperate.
“You spent your whole life believing whatever people told you,” she said. “Don't become brave now.”
I looked at Emily.
She was standing beside James.
Her cheek was still faintly red.
Something inside me hardened.
“I already did.”
I hung up.
The detective stared at me.
“I told you to keep her talking.”
“She'll call back.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she wants something.”
I was right.
She called again three minutes later.
This time the officers were prepared.
They traced what they could.
Burner phone.
Cell tower west of Dallas.
Large area.
Not enough.
Patricia gave me instructions.
A grocery store parking lot.
Alone.
Bring the brass key and the flash drive.
No police.
I agreed.
The detective shook his head.
We both knew I had no intention of going alone.
While officers prepared, Evelyn called.
“I found the loan.”
My stomach dropped.
“What loan?”
“The forged property transfer was used as collateral for a twelve-million-dollar private loan.”
I stopped breathing.
“Twelve million?”
“Funded yesterday.”
“Where did the money go?”
“An account controlled by PDM Holdings.”
“Can you freeze it?”
“We're trying.”
“What does PDM stand for?”
“I assumed Patricia Daniel—”
“No.”
I remembered the photograph.
Robert and Patricia.
Twenty-six years ago.
“Find the incorporation documents.”
A pause.
“Give me a moment.”
I paced.
Then Evelyn spoke.
“PDM Holdings was formed eight years ago.”
“By who?”
“Registered organizer was an attorney named Marcus Dale.”
I frowned.
“I don't know him.”
James did.
His face changed.
“Marcus?”
I looked at him.
“You know him?”
James leaned against the wall.
“He was Robert Hale's personal attorney.”
My heart started pounding.
Evelyn continued.
“There are three original initials recorded in an internal operating document.”
She paused.
“Patricia Bennett.”
“Yes.”
“Daniel Bennett.”
I waited.
“And Marcus Dale.”
PDM.
Patricia.
Daniel.
Marcus.
This had never been just a mother and son.
There was a third person.
A man with access to Robert's estate.
His legal documents.
His trust.
Possibly everything.
James whispered, “Marcus was at the hospital after the accident.”
I turned toward him.
“What?”
“He came to see Patricia.”
“Why?”
“She told me he represented Robert.”
“Did that make sense?”
“At the time.”
I looked at the photograph again.
Patricia knows the truth.
Maybe Robert hadn't been warning me only about Patricia.
Maybe he had been warning me about an entire group.
Evelyn's voice sharpened.
“Sarah, I found something else.”
“What?”
“Marcus Dale handled the first version of your trust.”
The room seemed to narrow around me.
“Can he access it?”
“Not anymore.”
“Could he before?”
“Yes.”
My mouth went dry.
“For how long?”
“Almost four years.”
“When?”
“From the trust's creation until Robert removed him.”
“Why did Robert remove him?”
“I don't have that in the electronic file.”
James whispered, “The accident.”
“What?”
“The timing.”
He looked horrified.
“Robert removed Marcus less than two months after the crash.”
My phone buzzed.
A text from Patricia.
Five minutes.
Parking lot.
Come alone or your mother pays for it.
The detective took the phone.
“We move now.”
I grabbed my coat.
James caught my arm gently.
“Sarah.”
I looked at him.
“There's one thing before you go.”
“What?”
“I know where Marcus lives.”
The detective turned.
“Where?”
James gave an address near Possum Kingdom Lake.
Two hours west.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn't Patricia.
It was my mother.
Just three words.
Not the store.
Then another.
Lake house.
May you like
And one final message.
Marcus is here.
