Chapter 4 - THE HOUSE OF CARDS
“Janet?” I stammered, stepping in front of Leo to shield him. “What are you doing?”
Janet’s face was completely devoid of the polite, apologetic customer-service smile she had worn in my mother’s kitchen just an hour ago. Her eyes were hard, calculating.
“Put the cigar box back on the desk, Rebecca,” she ordered. Her voice didn’t shake.
“You’re not a realtor,” I said, my mind racing to connect the pieces.
“I’m a private investigator,” she replied coldly. “And I’ve been looking for your brother Thomas for nineteen years. Now, put the box down, and step away from the boy.”
“Why are you looking for Thomas?” I demanded.
Janet’s jaw tightened. “Because nineteen years ago, Thomas Collins embezzled fifty thousand dollars from a law firm. My husband’s law firm. The stress of the bankruptcy caused my husband to take his own life. Thomas ruined my family, and I’m here to make sure he finally pays for it.”
The breath rushed out of my lungs. “You’re wrong.”
“Don’t lie to me!” Janet snapped, raising the gun slightly. “I know he came back four years ago. I tracked him this far. Where is he?”
“Janet, listen to me!” I reached blindly behind me, squeezing Leo’s small hand to keep him calm. “Thomas didn’t steal the money. Diane did!”
Janet scoffed. “Diane was a junior secretary. Thomas was the accountant. His signature was on every fraudulent transfer.”
“Because he covered for her!” I shouted, pointing to the cigar box. “Look inside! Look at the checks! Look at the letter! Thomas paid off Diane’s debts. She framed him, and he ran to protect her and our mother.”
Janet hesitated. Her eyes flicked down to the wooden box on the desk.
“Open it,” I pleaded. “Read the letter in his own handwriting. He was innocent. He lost his whole life because of my sister.”
Janet kept the gun aimed at me, but she reached out with her left hand and flipped open the cigar box. She stared at the old cashier’s checks. She unfolded the notebook paper.
As she read Thomas’s desperate letter to our mother, the color slowly drained from Janet’s face.
“My God,” she whispered, the gun wavering. “It was Diane?”
“Yes,” I said softly. “And Diane is the one who got rid of Thomas four years ago. Leo—Thomas’s son—was there. He saw Diane take him.”
Janet looked at Leo, her expression softening into horror. She slowly lowered the gun, clicking the safety back on. She had spent two decades hunting a ghost, fueled by a desire for vengeance against the wrong person.
“I… I befriended your mother,” Janet said, her voice shaking. “I posed as a realtor to get close to the family. To find out where Thomas was hiding. Your mother told me she wanted to sell the house quickly. I thought she was trying to liquidate assets to send to him.”
“Mom wasn’t selling the house,” I realized aloud. “Diane was. Diane forged Mom’s signature on the listing agreement.”
Janet’s head snapped up. “If Diane is forging documents to sell the estate…”
“She needs cash,” I finished. “Fast.”
Suddenly, my cell phone vibrated in my purse. I pulled it out.
It was a text message from Diane.
Come back to the house alone right now. Or I’m calling Child Protective Services and reporting a runaway orphan. I know you found him.
My blood ran cold. How did she know?
Then I looked at the red bicycle in the corner of the unit. There was a small, black plastic square taped under the seat.
An Apple AirTag.
Diane had tracked Mom’s movements. She knew about the storage unit. She knew about Leo all along.
“She knows we’re here,” I told Janet, panic rising. “She’s threatening to take Leo.”
Janet’s face hardened, but this time, her anger was directed exactly where it belonged. She slipped the gun into her coat pocket and grabbed the cigar box.
May you like
“Put the boy in my car,” Janet said. “Your sister owes me a husband. And she owes you a brother. Let’s go have a talk with Diane.”
---
