Chapter 10: The Photograph That Accused Me
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
My name was written on the back of the photograph.
Emily Bennett.
Not Claire.
Not Michael Graves.
Me.
The investigator placed the picture between the wineglass and the bowl of Christmas decorations Claire hadn't bothered putting away.
"Mrs. Bennett," she said, looking at my mother, "you told us you left the hospital at approximately 10:30 p.m. Is that correct?""
Mom nodded.
"Yes. Claire told me Robert was sleeping. She said I should go home and rest.""
The investigator turned toward me.
"And you, Emily?""
"I arrived after midnight. I wasn't there at 11:52.""
"Can anyone confirm that?""
"Yes. My husband. I was driving from Pennsylvania. I have hotel receipts, toll records, and phone records.""
She wrote something in her notebook.
Then she pointed at the photograph.
"Do you recognize the woman?""
I leaned closer.
The woman wore a beige coat and had dark hair pulled into a bun. Her face was partially hidden by the angle of the camera.
But the coat looked familiar.
I looked at Mom.
She was staring at it too.
"That's my coat," she whispered.
The investigator nodded.
"That's what we initially believed.""
Mom shook her head.
"But I wasn't there.""
The investigator removed another photograph.
This one showed the woman entering the hospital.
Her face was clearer.
I felt my stomach drop.
It wasn't Mom.
It was a woman who looked almost exactly like her.
Same height. Similar hairstyle. Similar build.
But her face was younger.
Much younger.
Daniel leaned forward.
"Who is that?""
The investigator looked at him.
"We believe she may be related to someone involved in the estate dispute.""
Claire suddenly stood.
"Don't.""
Everyone turned.
The investigator raised an eyebrow.
"Don't what, Ms. Bennett?""
Claire's face was drained of color.
"Don't show them that photograph.""
The investigator looked at her.
"Why?""
Claire shook her head.
"Because you don't understand.""
I stepped forward.
"Then explain it.""
Claire looked at Mom.
Then at me.
Finally, she whispered a name.
"Rachel.""
Mom frowned.
"Who is Rachel?""
Claire lowered herself into a chair.
"Rachel Miller.""
I recognized the surname.
Emma Bennett-Miller.
My father's secret niece.
But Emma had been at the café with us. She had been helping us uncover everything.
"Emma's mother?"" I asked.
Claire nodded.
"Elizabeth's daughter. Your father's niece.""
Mom looked confused.
"Why would Rachel be at the hospital?""
Claire covered her face.
"Because she came to see Dad.""
The investigator placed the photograph back on the table.
"Ms. Bennett, are you suggesting that Rachel Miller entered Robert Bennett's hospital room at 11:52 p.m.?""
Claire nodded.
"Yes.""
"Did she administer medication?""
"No.""
"Did she alter medical records?""
"I don't know.""
"Then why did you identify her?""
Claire looked at me.
"Because she was there when Dad died.""
I felt a chill run through me.
I remembered Emma's messages.
The folder.
The photographs.
The documents.
Had we been helping the wrong person?
The investigator continued.
"Do you have evidence of this?""
Claire nodded slowly.
"There's a visitor photograph in the original hospital file. Michael has it.""
"Michael Graves?""
"Yes.""
The investigator closed her notebook.
"Then we'll need to speak with him.""
She turned toward Mom.
"Mrs. Bennett, I need you to come with us tomorrow to provide a formal statement. We also need your daughter Emily's travel records.""
I nodded.
"Of course.""
But Claire wasn't finished.
"There's something else.""
The investigator turned back.
"What?""
Claire swallowed.
"Rachel didn't come alone.""
Mom gripped the edge of the table.
"Who was with her?""
Claire looked directly at me.
"Emily.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
"Rachel said you were coming.""
"That's impossible. I was four hours away!""
"I know.""
"Then why would she say that?""
Claire began crying.
"Because she wanted Dad to think you were there. She wanted him to believe someone had come to take him home.""
Mom shook her head.
"Robert was asking for Emily?""
Claire nodded.
"He kept asking when you would arrive. Rachel told him you were already downstairs.""
I felt something tighten in my chest.
Dad had been waiting for me.
But I hadn't arrived in time.
The investigator looked at Claire.
"Why would Rachel pretend to be Emily?""
Claire wiped her eyes.
"Because Dad had changed his will. He wanted Emily to receive something important.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
Claire looked toward the investigator.
"The original trust documents.""
My head spun.
"Why would Dad give them to me?""
"Because he believed you were the only person who could protect Emma.""
Mom's eyes filled.
"What does Emma have to do with this?""
Claire hesitated.
Then she said something that changed everything again.
"Emma wasn't just Dad's niece.""
I frowned.
"What do you mean?""
Claire looked at Mom.
"Elizabeth wasn't my father's sister.""
Mom stared at her.
"That's impossible. I met Elizabeth.""
"She was his half-sister. But Emma's birth certificate listed another father.""
I felt confused.
"Who?""
Claire looked down.
"Robert.""
Nobody moved.
The investigator slowly closed her notebook.
Mom whispered, "What?""
Claire shook her head.
"Not biologically. Dad adopted Emma's mother through a private family arrangement after Elizabeth became ill. He raised her as his own in every way he could. He never wanted anyone to know because Elizabeth had asked him to protect her.""
I looked at the photograph.
Then at Claire.
"Why would Rachel want the trust documents?""
Claire's answer came quietly.
"Because Rachel believed the trust belonged to her.""
The investigator stood.
"Where is Rachel Miller now?""
Claire looked toward the window.
"I don't know.""
Then she reached into her handbag and removed a folded piece of paper.
"I received this yesterday.""
She handed it to the investigator.
It was a handwritten note.
The original documents must be destroyed before Margaret discovers the second beneficiary.
At the bottom was a signature.
Rachel Miller.
The investigator studied it.
Then she looked at Claire.
"Who is the second beneficiary?""
Claire stared at me.
And whispered:
"Your father left half of everything to you, Emily.""
I felt the room tilt.
But before I could ask another question, the investigator's phone rang.
She answered.
Listened.
Then her expression changed.
"Are you certain?""
A pause.
"Where?""
She ended the call.
Then she looked at us.
"Rachel Miller has just been located.""
Mom stood.
"Where?""
May you like
The investigator's answer made my blood run cold.
"At Michael Graves's office.""
