Chapter 7 - The Twenty-Eight Million Dollar LieNathan came back to the mansion under one condition.
Sophie would not see him unless she asked.
She didn’t.
Helen met him in Charles’s library with Laura Mitchell and Detective Reed present.
Nathan hated that.
“Do we need an audience?”
“Yes,” Helen said.
Nathan sat.
He looked older than he had a week earlier.
“The company began failing three years ago.”
Laura asked, “Failing or being looted?”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“Both.”
Graham Vale had created special-purpose companies supposedly used to purchase land.
Money moved from Whitmore Coastal into those entities.
Some bought property.
Some didn’t.
Nathan initially believed Graham was hiding debt from lenders.
Then he realized several entities had no legitimate operations.
“Who received the money?”
“I don’t know all of them.”
“Your mother?” Helen asked.
Nathan looked at her.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Maybe six million.”
Helen laughed in disbelief.
Margaret lived lavishly despite receiving only a fixed annual stipend.
Now it made sense.
“Charles found out.”
“Yes.”
“He confronted you.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell him everything?”
“I was ashamed.”
Laura’s expression remained hard.
“That word doesn’t repair fraud.”
“I know.”
Nathan continued.
Charles intended to remove Graham as attorney, suspend Nathan from the company, and bring in forensic accountants.
“He told me he was changing the trust.”
Helen remembered Charles signing documents in the months before his death.
“Did Margaret know?”
“Yes.”
“Graham?”
“Yes.”
“What happened nine days later?”
Nathan’s hands tightened.
“My father died.”
“Where were you?”
“With you.”
Helen knew that.
“So your alibi is me.”
Nathan flinched.
“I’m not accused of murder.”
“Not yet.”
Reed interrupted.
“Helen.”
She leaned back.
Nathan looked exhausted.
“The morning after Dad died, Graham brought documents.”
“What documents?”
“Board resolutions. Loan approvals. Transfer authorizations.”
“Signed by Charles?”
Nathan nodded.
“But they weren’t real.”
“No.”
“Why sign them?”
“To prevent lenders from discovering the missing money.”
Helen stared.
“So you covered up fraud.”
“Yes.”
“And Graham kept the originals.”
“Yes.”
“Blackmail.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“He wants me to help amend Sophie’s trust.”
“What does your mother want?”
“Control.”
“Over what?”
“Everything.”
Nathan’s voice carried bitterness now.
“My whole life Mom believed Dad cheated her.”
“Financially?”
“In every way.”
“She thought half the company was hers.”
“Why wasn’t it?”
“Prenup.”
Charles had built Whitmore Coastal before marriage.
Margaret received substantial assets in the divorce provisions of the prenup but no controlling interest.
They never divorced.
“She hated him for it.”
“Enough to let him die?”
Nathan looked away.
“I don’t know.”
Helen believed that answer.
Not because Nathan was suddenly trustworthy.
Because he looked afraid to know.
Detective Reed placed Margaret’s phone extraction report on the table.
Police had obtained consent through warrant procedures after the child-abuse investigation expanded.
Graham’s messages went back months.
Most were coded.
But several weren’t.
One from the week of Charles’s death:
IF CHARLES TALKS TO THE ACCOUNTANTS, WE ALL LOSE.
Another:
M. SAYS SHE CAN HANDLE HIM.
Helen stared at Nathan.
“Who is M?”
“My mother.”
Another message after Charles died:
THE OLD MAN WON’T BE A PROBLEM AGAIN.
Nathan looked sick.
He had never seen it.
“Graham wrote that?”
“Yes.”
Reed turned the page.
Six weeks ago:
THE GIRL HEARD TOO MUCH.
Then:
KEEP HER QUIET UNTIL HELEN SIGNS.
Helen’s hands went cold.
Nathan covered his face.
“I didn’t know.”
Helen stared.
“Do you understand that saying that is no longer enough?”
He nodded.
Then Reed showed him another message.
This one came from Nathan’s number to Graham.
I’LL HANDLE HELEN. MOM HANDLES SOPHIE.
Nathan looked up quickly.
“I didn’t write that.”
Helen’s eyes narrowed.
“It came from your phone.”
“I did not write it.”
“When?”
“Four weeks ago.”
Nathan thought.
“I was in Atlanta.”
“Phone with you?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone else had access?”
“No.”
Then his face changed.
“What?”
“My iPad.”
“What about it?”
“It mirrors messages.”
“Where was it?”
Nathan looked toward Helen.
“At the mansion.”
“Who knew the passcode?”
“My mother.”
The possibility was obvious.
Margaret might have impersonated Nathan.
But Laura remained skeptical.
“Convenient.”
“I know how it sounds.”
Helen looked at the message.
She wanted it to be Margaret.
She also wanted to stop wanting things simply because they hurt less.
“Prove it.”
Nathan nodded slowly.
“I’ll try.”
Then Reed’s phone rang.
He listened.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Helen asked.
He ended the call.
“The medical examiner located Charles’s stored blood sample.”
Nathan stood.
“And?”
“It’s being tested.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
Helen felt the room shift.
Then Reed added:
“There’s something else.”
Charles’s original hospital record noted that paramedics found an open prescription bottle near the kitchen.
Heart medication.
The bottle disappeared before police catalogued the scene.
“Who removed it?” Helen asked.
Reed looked at Nathan.
“A responding paramedic remembers giving it to a family member.”
“Who?”
May you like
Reed answered:
“Margaret.”
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