Chapter 6 - Gwen's Secret
The drive home from the bank felt longer than my entire flight back from deployment.
Gwen sat beside me.
Paige was in the back seat.
Nobody spoke.
Margaret's last words kept repeating in my head.
Ask your wife why your father really put her in the will.
Ask her what happened the night before Thomas changed everything.
I trusted Gwen.
After everything I had discovered, I trusted her more than anyone.
But trust doesn't erase questions.
When we reached the house, Paige quietly went inside.
Gwen remained in the passenger seat.
I turned off the engine.
Neither of us moved.
Finally, I asked, "What was she talking about?"
Gwen stared through the windshield.
"Your father made me promise."
My chest tightened.
"Promise what?"
"Not to tell you unless Margaret forced me to."
"She's forcing you."
Gwen nodded slowly.
Then she looked at me.
"Your father knew she was stealing from him."
I frowned.
"Before he died?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"I caught her."
The words sat between us.
Gwen took a breath.
"About eight months before Thomas died, he was already weak. Margaret started controlling most of the household finances."
That sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
"One night I came downstairs and saw her going through his desk."
"What was she doing?"
"Taking checks."
My jaw tightened.
"I thought maybe Thomas had asked her to."
"He hadn't?"
"No."
Gwen rubbed her hands together.
"A few days later, I heard them arguing."
She had been upstairs folding laundry when Dad confronted Margaret about missing money.
"He accused her of taking thirty thousand dollars."
"Thirty thousand?"
"She said she deserved it."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Gwen continued.
"Thomas threatened to change his accounts. Margaret told him if he did, she'd leave him alone when he was dying."
That sounded like my mother.
I hated admitting it.
"What happened the night before the will changed?"
Gwen stared down.
"Your father fell."
My body stiffened.
Dad's health had deteriorated quickly in his final year.
We had always been told the fall happened because he became dizzy.
"He fell down the stairs," I said.
Gwen nodded.
"But not by accident."
I stopped breathing.
"What are you saying?"
"I didn't see Margaret push him."
The qualification mattered.
"But?"
"I heard them arguing."
Gwen's voice shook.
"Then I heard your father say, 'Put that down.'"
My skin went cold.
"Then there was a crash."
She closed her eyes.
"I ran into the hallway. Thomas was at the bottom of the stairs."
"And Mom?"
"At the top."
I gripped the steering wheel.
"What was she holding?"
Gwen whispered, "His cane."
For several seconds, I said nothing.
"Did Dad say she pushed him?"
"No."
"Did you?"
"No."
"Then what happened?"
"He spent three days in the hospital. When he came home, he asked me to drive him to Robert Klein."
"The will."
"Yes."
"Why didn't he call the police?"
"I asked him."
"What did he say?"
Gwen looked at me.
"He said he had spent thirty-three years making excuses for Margaret and didn't want his last months turned into a criminal case."
That sounded painfully like my father.
"He said he wanted to protect you instead."
"By changing the will."
"And protecting me."
I swallowed.
"Why you?"
"Because he knew if something happened to you overseas, Margaret would throw me out."
My chest tightened.
Dad had predicted everything.
Not the cancer.
Not the miscarriage.
But the cruelty.
"What promise did you make?"
Gwen's eyes filled.
"He made me promise not to tell you about the fall while you were serving."
"Why?"
"Because you would've come home."
"Of course I would've come home."
"He knew."
My voice cracked.
"I should've been here."
"No."
"I should've—"
"Daniel."
She placed her hand over mine.
"He didn't want your last memory of him to be a courtroom."
I looked away.
For four years, I had imagined coming home to fix everything.
But there are things time won't let you fix.
My father was gone.
Our baby was gone.
Five months of early cancer treatment were gone.
Money could be recovered.
Houses could be sold.
People could be arrested.
Time couldn't.
Gwen whispered, "That's why I didn't tell you."
I nodded.
I understood.
That didn't make it hurt less.
Inside the house, Paige was sitting on the stairs.
She stood when we entered.
"Detective Morris called."
"What did she say?"
"Mom and Curtis aren't under arrest yet."
I expected that.
Financial cases move carefully.
Evidence first.
Charges later.
"But Curtis asked for a lawyer immediately."
"Smart."
"Mom didn't."
That surprised me.
"What did she do?"
Paige looked miserable.
"She blamed Gwen."
I almost laughed.
"Of course."
"She told police Gwen manipulated all the accounts."
Gwen closed her eyes.
Paige continued.
"She said Gwen had your passwords."
"She didn't."
"I know."
"Does Morris know?"
"Yes."
Then Paige hesitated.
"Mom also told them you threatened her."
I stared at her.
"With what?"
"She says you're unstable because of deployment."
That one landed differently.
Using my military service against me.
Calling me traumatized.
Violent.
Unstable.
Predictable.
Cruel.
And potentially dangerous.
"Did she say I hit her?"
"No."
"Threaten to kill her?"
"No."
"Then we're fine."
Paige wasn't convinced.
"She says she's afraid to come home."
I looked around the mansion.
"She shouldn't come home."
Gwen touched my arm.
"Daniel."
"I'm serious."
Robert had already filed emergency civil paperwork regarding the disputed property and assets.
If the house was purchased with fraudulently obtained funds, Margaret's ownership wasn't as secure as she believed.
But legally, I couldn't simply throw her out.
Not yet.
So we did something better.
We left.
That night, Gwen and I checked into a small extended-stay hotel near the cancer center.
Two beds.
Tiny kitchen.
Ugly carpet.
It felt like paradise.
Because the door locked.
Because Margaret didn't have a key.
Because Gwen could shower without asking permission.
She stood beneath hot water for nearly forty minutes.
When she came out wearing one of my Army shirts, she looked exhausted but peaceful.
"I forgot what it felt like to close a door."
That sentence nearly broke me.
I ordered her soup.
She ate half.
That was more than she had eaten the day before.
At midnight, my phone rang.
Detective Morris.
"Mr. Hale?"
"Yes."
"We executed a search warrant on Mr. Reed's office."
My pulse accelerated.
"What did you find?"
"Documents involving your father's property."
"Good."
"And multiple identity files."
"What does that mean?"
"Copies of military IDs. Social Security numbers. signatures."
I sat up.
Gwen opened her eyes.
Morris continued.
"Your information wasn't the only one."
"How many?"
"We're still counting."
Curtis and Margaret hadn't simply stolen from me.
This was bigger.
"There's another reason I'm calling."
I looked at Gwen.
"What?"
"We found a life-insurance policy."
My stomach dropped.
"On who?"
"You."
Silence.
"How much?"
"Seven hundred fifty thousand dollars."
I couldn't breathe.
"Beneficiary?"
Morris paused.
"Margaret Hale."
My mother had taken out a three-quarter-million-dollar insurance policy on me while I was deployed.
"Did I sign it?"
"That's exactly the problem."
My mouth went dry.
"The application has your signature."
I already knew what she was going to say.
"It's forged?"
"We believe so."
Gwen sat up.
"What is it?" she whispered.
I couldn't answer yet.
Morris continued.
"And according to an email we recovered, Curtis asked your mother a question about nine months ago."
"What question?"
May you like
Her answer changed the entire case.
"He asked how soon military death benefits are paid when a soldier dies overseas."
