Chapter 12 - Twenty Relatives, Twenty Different LiesMallory began calling people.
Not angrily.
That would have made lying easier.
Instead she asked each relative the same five questions.
When did you first hear about selling Fox Hollow?
Who told you?
What were you told I had agreed to?
Were you promised money?
Did you know the documents had not been approved by me?
The answers rarely matched.
Todd said he thought Mallory had voluntarily offered the house.
Franklin said Bernice told him Edward had “intended” the property for the extended family.
Paula claimed she had no idea any money was coming to her.
Diane admitted Paula had discussed using “her share” to replenish retirement savings.
Cousin Mark said he only attended the birthday party for Elsie.
Then accidentally mentioned that Bernice expected “good news before dessert.”
Mallory wrote everything down.
By evening, patterns emerged.
Bernice told each person a slightly different story.
To Todd: Mallory had offered to help.
To Franklin: Edward’s will had been unfair.
To Paula: the house would be refinanced, not sold.
To Diane: ownership would move into an LLC.
To Richard: Mallory intended to sign.
Nobody had the whole picture.
Except Bernice.
And perhaps Celeste.
Todd came to the house that night.
He arrived without calling.
Mallory almost didn’t let him in.
But she wanted answers.
Todd looked exhausted.
At forty-one, he still had the easy charm that had gotten him through years of failed ventures.
It didn’t work now.
“Can we talk?”
“Depends.”
“Mallory.”
She opened the door.
They sat in the living room.
Todd looked toward the staircase.
“Girls okay?”
“Now.”
He winced.
“I didn’t know Bernice was making Wren work like that.”
“You were sitting at the table.”
“I thought she was helping.”
“For three hours?”
Todd looked down.
“I wasn’t paying attention.”
“That seems to be a family specialty.”
He exhaled.
“I deserve that.”
Mallory folded her arms.
“How much do you owe?”
“Seven eighty.”
“To whom?”
“Two private lenders and one contractor group.”
“Personally guaranteed?”
“Four hundred and ten.”
“Franklin?”
“He guaranteed another two hundred.”
“And the rest?”
“Business assets.”
Mallory stared.
“Why did you let Mom invest?”
Todd rubbed his face.
“She insisted.”
“You took three hundred thousand dollars from a sixty-two-year-old woman.”
“She wanted in.”
“You knew she had limited retirement assets.”
“She told me she had more.”
“Did you believe her?”
Todd said nothing.
Mallory leaned forward.
“Did she ever say she would use my house if the project failed?”
“No.”
Truth.
Mallory could hear it.
“When did the house come up?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“Who suggested it?”
Todd’s expression changed.
“Celeste.”
Mallory’s pulse quickened.
“Tell me.”
“She came to one meeting.”
“Why?”
“Bernice said she understood property law.”
“Does she?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did she say?”
Todd looked uncomfortable.
“That the house was basically dead equity.”
Mallory stared.
“Dead equity.”
“She said it was sitting there while everyone was drowning.”
“And?”
“She said Edward bought it partly with Cecilia’s money.”
“Did you know who Cecilia was?”
“Sort of.”
“Did you know Celeste was her daughter?”
“Not until then.”
“What did Celeste propose?”
“Move the house into the LLC. Sell it. Resolve everything.”
“And you thought I agreed?”
Todd’s face reddened.
“Bernice said you would.”
“Would or had?”
“Would.”
Mallory laughed without humor.
“So you knew I hadn’t.”
Todd looked down.
“I knew you hadn’t signed yet.”
“But you let everyone proceed.”
“I was desperate.”
There it was.
Not innocence.
Not malice.
Desperation.
“I’m going to lose everything,” Todd whispered.
Mallory stared at him.
“That does not entitle you to my daughters’ home.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He looked up.
His eyes were wet.
“I do now.”
Mallory didn’t comfort him.
She also didn’t enjoy his fear.
That surprised her.
For two days she had imagined confronting the people involved and feeling satisfaction.
Instead she felt tired.
“What happens if you default?”
“Bankruptcy, probably.”
“And Franklin?”
“Could lose his company.”
“Paula?”
“She shouldn’t lose anything.”
“She invested.”
“Not directly. Bernice put Paula’s money into her own account first.”
Mallory frowned.
“What?”
Todd nodded.
“Paula gave Bernice money for a high-yield account. Bernice put it into my deal instead.”
Mallory stared.
“Paula didn’t know?”
“Not exactly.”
“That’s not ‘not exactly.’”
Todd rubbed his forehead.
“I assumed Bernice told her.”
Mallory laughed once.
Of course he did.
Everyone assumed Bernice explained.
Everyone relied on her version.
“Does Paula know now?”
“No.”
Mallory stood.
“She will.”
Todd grabbed her wrist.
“Wait.”
Mallory looked down.
He immediately released her.
“If Paula finds out, she’ll go to the police.”
“If Mom used her money without permission, maybe she should.”
Todd’s face went pale.
“You’d let your own mother get arrested?”
Mallory stared at him.
That sentence.
There it was again.
Family as immunity.
Family as excuse.
“You’re asking the wrong question.”
“What question should I ask?”
“Why did my mother think being family meant she could take whatever she wanted?”
Todd looked away.
Mallory walked him to the door.
Before leaving, he turned.
“Mallory.”
“What?”
“The party.”
She waited.
“Bernice told us not to leave early.”
“Why?”
“She said there would be an announcement.”
Mallory’s stomach tightened.
“What announcement?”
“That the house issue was finally settled.”
She stared at him.
Todd continued.
“She had champagne in the garage.”
Mallory felt disgust rise.
For Elsie’s fourth birthday, Bernice had planned a second celebration.
Not for the child.
For the house.
After Todd left, Mallory entered the garage.
She opened the refrigerator.
Behind juice boxes and bottled water stood six unopened bottles of champagne.
Taped to one box was a handwritten note.
Open after M signs.
Mallory stared at it.
Then she heard Wren behind her.
“Mom?”
Mallory turned quickly.
Wren was holding another piece of paper.
“I found this under Grandma’s bed.”
Mallory’s heart skipped.
“What is it?”
Wren held it out.
A list of names.
Todd.
Franklin.
Paula.
Diane.
Celeste.
Richard.
Beside each name was a number.
Dollar amounts.
May you like
At the bottom, beneath Mallory’s own name, Bernice had written only one word.
NONE.
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