Chapter 5 - The Man Behind the Money
I didn't sleep.
Neither did Paige.
By two in the morning, the three of us were sitting on the storage-room floor going through years of emails Margaret apparently believed no one would ever see.
Gwen leaned against my shoulder, wrapped in a blanket.
Paige sat across from us with mascara streaked beneath her eyes.
Every few minutes she whispered some version of the same sentence.
"I didn't know."
Sometimes I believed her.
Sometimes I didn't.
There are different kinds of guilt.
There is guilt from committing cruelty.
And there is guilt from enjoying the benefits of cruelty without asking where they came from.
Paige had done both.
Maybe not equally.
But enough.
Curtis Reed appeared in the emails two years and ten months earlier.
At first, they were personal.
Dinner reservations.
Hotel confirmations.
Pet names.
Then the language changed.
Property values.
Loan officers.
Transfer instructions.
Fake notarizations.
One message made my stomach twist.
Curtis wrote:
If your soldier boy keeps wiring money, don't change anything. Consistency looks legitimate.
Soldier boy.
I stared at those words for a long time.
I had never met Curtis Reed.
Yet he had been spending my deployment money while laughing about me.
Another email:
Gwen asked again about the account. Shut that down. She doesn't need access.
Margaret replied:
Already handled.
Paige read over my shoulder.
Her face went pale.
"She told me Gwen lost her debit card."
Gwen shook her head.
"Margaret took it."
"When?"
"Two weeks after Daniel deployed."
Paige closed her eyes.
I kept scrolling.
Then we found evidence of the house sale.
Curtis had created Riverside Property Holdings LLC.
The company that bought my father's house.
He used a forged authorization supposedly signed by me.
Six weeks later, Riverside sold the property to a real buyer at market price.
The first transfer price?
$120,000.
The resale price?
$238,000.
They had manufactured a below-market transaction to move the property into Curtis's company, then resold it and pocketed the difference.
This wasn't sloppy theft.
It was planned.
"Mom couldn't do all this alone," Paige whispered.
"No."
"Curtis works in real estate."
That explained some of it.
"What does he do exactly?"
"Mortgage brokerage, I think."
Gwen looked at me.
"He came here sometimes."
"You met him?"
"I wasn't allowed to talk to him."
Paige looked ashamed.
"Mom told everyone Gwen was the cleaner."
The words landed harder than I expected.
"What?"
Gwen stared at the floor.
"When guests came."
I felt something break inside me.
"They told people you were staff?"
"Sometimes."
"Why didn't you tell someone?"
She looked at me.
"Who?"
That one word shut me up.
Her parents were dead.
She had no siblings.
Most of our mutual friends moved away after college.
Margaret controlled her phone.
Paige watched her calls.
I was overseas.
Isolation doesn't happen all at once.
It happens one closed door at a time.
At 6:30, I called Robert Klein.
By 8:00, we were sitting in his office again.
This time Paige came with us.
Robert read the emails in silence.
Then he took off his glasses.
"This isn't merely a contested estate anymore."
"I know."
"You need law enforcement."
"I know."
"Financial crimes."
"I know."
"Potential identity theft, forgery, fraudulent conveyance."
"I know."
He studied me.
"You sound very calm."
"I'm not."
That answer seemed to satisfy him.
We contacted the bank fraud division, then a detective assigned to financial crimes.
Detective Lena Morris arrived at Robert's office before noon.
She was in her forties, sharp-eyed, unsentimental.
She listened.
Then asked Paige, "Did you access this email account with permission?"
Paige swallowed.
"I knew Mom's password."
"Did she authorize you to enter it?"
"No."
Morris nodded.
"Don't touch anything else."
Paige looked terrified.
"Am I in trouble?"
"That depends on what you did."
Paige started crying.
I felt no urge to comfort her.
Morris turned to me.
"Mr. Hale, we're going to preserve the evidence properly."
"Fine."
"Do not confront Curtis."
I almost smiled.
"Wasn't planning to."
She stared at me as if deciding whether she believed that.
"Do not warn Margaret that we're involved."
"I don't need to."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she already thinks she won."
Morris raised an eyebrow.
I explained the fake $400,000 story.
For the first time, the detective smiled.
"Keep it that way."
That afternoon, I took Gwen to begin preparing for chemotherapy.
Margaret texted repeatedly.
WHERE ARE YOU?
BANK APPOINTMENT TOMORROW 10 AM.
CURTIS CAN HELP US INVEST.
There it was.
Curtis.
I showed Morris.
She replied:
Go. Don't sign. We may arrange surveillance.
I looked at Gwen.
"You okay with this?"
She gave me a weak smile.
"I've been waiting four years for someone to finally see what they are."
I squeezed her hand.
"I see."
The next morning, Margaret was dressed like she was going to a wedding.
Cream suit.
Gold necklace.
Perfect hair.
Paige stayed in her bedroom.
Margaret didn't know Paige had spoken to me.
"Ready?" my mother asked.
"Absolutely."
She drove the truck.
My truck, technically paid for with stolen funds.
We arrived at First Continental Bank at 9:50.
Curtis Reed was waiting near the entrance.
He was younger than I expected.
Maybe fifty.
Expensive watch.
Confident smile.
He shook my hand like we were old friends.
"Daniel. Finally."
Finally.
As if he had earned the right to say my name.
"Mom's told me a lot about you."
"I bet."
He laughed.
Margaret didn't.
Inside, we met a private banker.
Curtis presented an investment plan.
Real estate.
An LLC.
Tax advantages.
Most importantly, he wanted the future compensation deposited into an account jointly controlled by Margaret.
"Family asset management," he called it.
I nodded thoughtfully.
"Sounds smart."
Margaret smiled.
Curtis leaned forward.
"With four hundred thousand, properly leveraged, you could control over a million dollars in property."
"Impressive."
"We've already done something similar."
I looked directly at him.
"Really?"
He paused.
Margaret interrupted.
"Curtis has helped me tremendously."
"With Dad's house?"
Curtis's hand froze.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
"What house?"
"My father's."
Margaret gave me a warning look.
I smiled.
"Relax. I'm just trying to learn."
Curtis recovered.
"Your mother mentioned an old property."
"She sold it."
"So I understand."
"Good price?"
"I wouldn't know."
Lie.
I nodded.
Then the banker slid paperwork toward me.
"Mr. Hale, we would need your signature here and here to open the management account."
I picked up the pen.
Margaret leaned forward.
Curtis watched my hand.
I placed the pen down.
"I forgot my military benefits letter."
Margaret's jaw tightened.
"We don't need it today."
"The banker said we do."
The banker looked confused.
"I actually didn't—"
I stood.
"Let's reschedule."
Outside, Margaret grabbed my arm.
"What are you doing?"
"I forgot paperwork."
"You are making this difficult."
Curtis approached.
His smile was gone.
"We're trying to help you."
I looked at him.
"For free?"
He stared back.
"Your mother and I care about your future."
I almost laughed.
Then two unmarked vehicles pulled into the parking lot.
Detective Morris stepped out.
Curtis's face changed.
Margaret whispered, "Daniel?"
Morris approached.
"Curtis Reed?"
He stepped backward.
"Who's asking?"
"Detective Lena Morris."
She displayed her badge.
"We'd like to speak with you regarding several financial transactions."
Curtis looked at Margaret.
That look told me everything.
Not confusion.
Not innocence.
Panic.
Morris turned to Margaret.
"You as well, Mrs. Hale."
My mother stared at me.
"What did you do?"
I met her eyes.
"Nothing."
Then I added quietly:
"I just came home."
Detective Morris's team separated them.
Curtis was escorted toward one vehicle.
Margaret stood beside the truck trembling with rage.
Before they took her phone, she looked straight at Paige's bedroom window across town as if she could see through walls.
Then she said something I hadn't expected.
"This was all for you."
I frowned.
"What?"
"Everything I did."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I did it because your father was going to leave you with nothing."
Robert's documents said the opposite.
Margaret must have known that.
I shook my head.
"Save it."
She laughed bitterly.
"You still don't know what your father did."
I froze.
Detective Morris touched her elbow.
Margaret pulled away.
Then she looked at Gwen.
"You think Thomas was protecting her?"
Gwen stiffened.
My mother smiled.
"Ask your wife why your father really put her in the will."
I stared at Gwen.
She turned pale.
Margaret continued.
May you like
"Ask her what happened the night before Thomas changed everything."
And for the first time since I began uncovering the lies, Gwen looked like she was hiding something from me too.
