Chapter 8 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW MORE THAN SHE SAID
I read the name twice.
Charlotte Bennett.
My fiancée.
My future wife.
The woman I had trusted enough to bring back to Miami.
I looked at Richard.
“When did this transfer happen?”
“Four years ago.”
I stared at the date.
One year after my divorce.
One year after I moved to Canada.
Charlotte had told me she had never been involved in my family's finances.
I looked at Laura.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
My mother looked terrified.
“I didn't.”
Camilla was silent.
Then she asked:
“Why would Charlotte receive money from your father's company?”
I didn't know.
So I called her.
She answered immediately.
“Lucas?”
“Where are you?”
“At the hotel.”
“Come to Mom's house.”
A pause.
“Why?”
“Because I know.”
Silence.
Then she whispered:
“Know what?”
“The money.”
She stopped breathing.
“I'll come.”
Forty minutes later, Charlotte entered the house.
She looked at the people gathered in the living room.
Then she saw the receipt.
Her shoulders dropped.
“You found it.”
I felt sick.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Everything.”
I closed my eyes.
“Start talking.”
Charlotte sat down.
“I met your father before he died.”
“When?”
“Three months before.”
“Why?”
“He asked me to help him investigate a company.”
I stared.
“What company?”
“The one Richard mentioned.”
“Why you?”
“Because I worked in financial compliance in Canada.”
That was true.
She had never told me that her first job had involved fraud investigations.
I waited.
“What happened?”
“Your father discovered money was being moved through several accounts.”
“Who was behind it?”
“I don't know.”
Richard spoke.
“You do.”
Charlotte looked at him.
“I suspected.”
“Who?”
She looked at my mother.
Then Camilla.
Finally me.
“Someone close to Lucas.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
Charlotte's voice shook.
“I thought it was Richard.”
Richard stepped forward.
“It wasn't.”
“I know that now.”
“Then who?”
Charlotte looked at me.
“I don't know.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So you've known for years and still said nothing.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
She cried.
“I loved you.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about Emilia.”
“Yes.”
“You paid her school deposit.”
“Yes.”
“You investigated my family.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Charlotte wiped her face.
“Because I was trying to make sure your daughter would be safe before I told you.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“I found out someone had been using Emilia's identity.”
“So why didn't you tell me?”
“Because every time I got close to the truth, someone backed away.”
She looked at Camilla.
“Your sister.”
Camilla went pale.
“My sister?”
“She knew about the financial scheme.”
Camilla shook her head.
“No.”
Charlotte nodded.
“She wasn't the person controlling it.”
“Then what was she doing?”
“Helping.”
Silence.
Camilla sat down.
“My sister wouldn't.”
“She was desperate.”
“For money?”
“Yes.”
Camilla covered her face.
“Where is she now?”
Charlotte looked at me.
“Gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Out of the country.”
Richard suddenly spoke.
“She took the ledger.”
Everyone looked at him.
Charlotte nodded.
“She contacted me yesterday.”
“Why?”
“She wanted protection.”
I felt exhausted.
“So where is the ledger?”
Charlotte reached into her purse.
She removed a small envelope.
“I have a copy.”
Richard stared.
“You made a copy?”
“I knew someone would come after it.”
I opened it.
Inside were account numbers.
Names.
Dates.
Transfers.
At the bottom was one final entry.
A payment made three weeks ago.
The recipient was listed as:
BENNETT FAMILY TRUST.
My blood ran cold.
“Who controls this?”
Charlotte whispered:
“Your mother.”
Mom looked horrified.
“I never created a trust.”
Richard stepped closer.
“Someone did it in your name.”
I looked at the papers.
Then at the photograph of my father.
Suddenly everything connected.
The money.
Emilia.
The false records.
My mother's account.
Richard's investigation.
Charlotte's secret.
My divorce.
Someone had spent years building a financial trail that could make it look as though my family had stolen from itself.
I looked at Charlotte.
“Who benefits?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then Emilia appeared in the doorway.
She held the red coat.
“Daddy?”
I turned.
“Yes?”
She looked at the adults.
“Why is everyone sad?”
I crouched beside her.
“Because grown-ups sometimes make things too complicated.”
She frowned.
“Are you leaving again?”
The question broke me.
“No.”
She held out her hand.
“Promise?”
I took it.
“I promise I'm going to try very hard.”
She nodded.
Then she whispered:
“Mommy says promises are what you do, not what you say.”
I looked at Camilla.
She smiled through tears.
My daughter had just repeated the most important lesson I had ever heard.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new message appeared.
No number.
Just one photograph.
My sister-in-law stood beside an airport gate.
Behind her was a flight board.
May you like
And beside her stood the man I had thought was dead.
My father’s former business partner.
