Chapter 6 - THE ARREST
When I returned home, two police vehicles were parked outside.
The family had scattered.
Olivia stood on the porch holding Mason.
My mother was inside speaking to an officer.
Brandon sat on the curb with his hands cuffed behind his back.
I ran toward him.
“What happened?”
He looked up.
“I didn't do it.”
“What didn't you do?”
“I didn't forge your signature.”
I froze.
“What?”
The officer stepped between us.
“Sir, you need to stay back.”
I showed my identification.
“I'm the homeowner.”
The officer nodded.
“Mr. Carter, your cousin is being detained in connection with forged property documents.”
Brandon shook his head.
“I delivered them. I didn't create them.”
I looked at Dana.
She had arrived moments earlier.
“This is exactly why we told everyone not to remove documents.”
Dana nodded.
“Agreed.”
I looked toward my mother.
She was watching us from the doorway.
Her expression was unreadable.
I walked inside.
“What did you tell the police?”
She folded her arms.
“I told them the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Brandon handled the paperwork.”
Brandon shouted from outside:
“You told me it was a routine filing!”
My mother ignored him.
I looked at her.
“You set him up.”
“No.”
“You sent him to the notary.”
“He volunteered.”
“That's not what he said.”
My mother looked tired.
“You're choosing strangers over your family.”
I stared at her.
“No.”
I pointed toward Olivia.
“I'm choosing my wife.”
Then toward Mason.
“I'm choosing my son.”
“And you're choosing the truth.”
She looked away.
Dana approached.
“We need access to your office.”
My mother stiffened.
“My office?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“There may be original financial records there.”
“You need a warrant.”
Dana didn't respond.
Instead, the front door opened.
A woman stepped inside.
She was dressed in a dark suit.
She introduced herself as an attorney.
“I'm representing Mrs. Carter.”
My mother looked relieved.
The attorney handed me a card.
“I recommend you don't speak to my client without counsel present.”
I nodded.
“Fine.”
Then I asked:
“Does your client know where the missing trust documents are?”
The attorney's expression changed.
My mother stared at me.
“How do you know about the trust?”
“Michael Hayes.”
Her face drained.
The attorney looked at her.
“You know him?”
My mother whispered:
“Unfortunately.”
I took out my phone.
I had recorded Michael explaining the trust.
I played the recording.
My mother's eyes filled with tears.
When it ended, she whispered:
“He was supposed to stay away.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows what happened.”
“What happened?”
She looked at me.
Then she finally said:
“I took the money.”
Nobody moved.
Her attorney closed her eyes.
My mother continued.
“I took it because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Your father.”
“Which one?”
She looked toward the floor.
“Michael.”
“What did he do?”
“He threatened me.”
Michael had told a different story.
I wanted to believe someone.
But I couldn't.
“Then why did you take the trust?”
“I didn't know what else to do.”
“Mom.”
She started crying.
“I thought I could protect you.”
“You've used that excuse my entire life.”
She looked up.
“I made mistakes.”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“You made choices.”
The attorney touched her shoulder.
“Don't say anything else.”
My mother stood.
Before she left, she looked at me.
“There is one thing you don't know.”
I waited.
She whispered:
“Your father didn't die naturally.”
My blood turned cold.
“Which father?”
“Your legal father.”
My heart stopped.
“My father was murdered?”
May you like
She nodded.
“And I know who did it.”
