Chapter 4 - What He Changed Before Surgery
Margaret grabbed the fireplace poker again.
Vanessa reached for her phone.
I stayed frozen beside Richard’s desk with the letter in my hand.
Footsteps moved down the hallway.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Then a man appeared.
Our accountant.
Daniel Mercer.
He raised both hands.
“Please don’t scream.”
Margaret lifted the poker.
“Give me one reason.”
“I sent the letter.”
I stared at him.
“You wrote this?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you breaking into my house?”
“I’m not. Richard gave me a key years ago when I handled company records.”
Margaret looked ready to commit a felony.
“Apparently every person in Illinois has a key to this house.”
Daniel noticed Vanessa.
His expression hardened.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“You know me?”
“I know who you are.”
That answer shifted the room.
“How?” I asked.
Daniel closed the front door.
“Because Richard has been moving money for months.”
“Into RB Development?”
“Yes.”
“Where did it go?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Mostly nowhere.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the accounts were designed to make money look like it had been spent when it hadn’t.”
Margaret frowned.
“Say that in English.”
“He created shell transactions.”
“For what?”
“To make his assets appear smaller.”
Divorce strategy.
That was my first thought.
Daniel shook his head before I could say it.
“This wasn’t about divorce.”
Vanessa leaned against the desk.
“Then what was it about?”
Daniel looked at the red envelope.
“You read the first line?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know Richard tried to change your medical power of attorney.”
“I didn’t sign anything.”
“He submitted paperwork.”
My stomach turned.
“Forged?”
“Possibly.”
“Why?”
Daniel took a breath.
“Your surgery carried risk.”
“That’s obvious.”
“Richard knew that.”
“So?”
“He asked what would happen financially if you didn’t survive.”
Nobody spoke.
Even Margaret lowered the poker.
I heard myself ask, “When?”
“Two weeks before surgery.”
The room became strangely quiet.
I pictured Richard sitting beside me at pre-op.
Holding my hand.
Telling the surgeon, “Take good care of my girl.”
I remembered him kissing my forehead the night before.
I remembered whispering, “You’d better take care of my kidney.”
He had smiled.
“Till death do us part.”
The memory nearly made me sick.
“What exactly did he ask you?” I said.
Daniel’s voice was careful.
“Whether your life insurance would pay automatically. Whether your share of the house would transfer to him. Whether there were taxes on inherited assets.”
Margaret muttered, “That son of a—”
“Did you think that was normal?” I interrupted.
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Richard?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
That frightened me more.
“Daniel.”
“Richard’s company is in trouble.”
“How much trouble?”
“He owes money.”
“To banks?”
“Some.”
“To who else?”
Daniel glanced at Vanessa.
She looked confused.
“Private lenders.”
“How much?”
“Nearly nine hundred thousand dollars.”
My knees weakened.
Margaret pulled out the desk chair.
I sat.
Nine hundred thousand.
“How?”
“Bad developments. Loans. Gambling.”
I looked up.
“Gambling?”
“For years.”
I had no idea.
Of course I had no idea.
Richard handled business finances.
He traveled for meetings.
He attended conferences.
He played golf.
Apparently he also built a second life out of secrets.
Daniel continued.
“Last year he lost heavily. Then he borrowed to cover it. Then he borrowed again.”
“Did he use our house?”
“He tried.”
The forged documents.
The appraisal.
The transfer.
Pieces were connecting.
“He couldn’t borrow against it without me.”
“Correct.”
“So he needed my signature.”
“Yes.”
“Or he needed me dead.”
Daniel looked away.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Margaret stepped beside me.
“Charlotte, we’re calling the police.”
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“We don’t know enough.”
“We know your husband was calculating what he’d inherit if you died.”
“That’s awful. It’s not proof he planned anything.”
Daniel nodded reluctantly.
“She’s right.”
Margaret glared at him.
“You stay out of this.”
I returned to the letter.
“What did he change before surgery?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Your company beneficiary designation.”
“What company?”
“Bennett Construction.”
I stared.
“That’s Richard’s company.”
“No.”
Daniel’s answer was quiet.
“It belongs to both of you.”
I almost laughed.
“No. I helped start it. My name hasn’t been on anything for years.”
“Your name is on the founding documents.”
“What?”
“When Richard incorporated, your father invested forty thousand dollars.”
I remembered.
Dad had called it a loan.
Richard repaid him years later.
Or claimed he had.
“Your father’s attorney structured it as an equity investment,” Daniel continued. “You received forty-nine percent ownership.”
My mouth went dry.
“Richard told me Dad was repaid.”
“He was. But repayment did not erase your ownership.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Because Richard had financial statements sent only to the office.”
Margaret stared at me.
“Forty-nine percent?”
Daniel nodded.
“That share is worth significantly less now because of the debt, but yes.”
“And Richard tried to change something?”
“If you died, your shares would normally pass according to your estate plan.”
“To my children.”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He submitted a buy-sell amendment supposedly signed by you.”
I already knew the answer.
“Forged?”
“I believe so.”
“What did it say?”
“That upon your death, Richard could purchase your shares from your estate for one dollar.”
Margaret actually sat down.
Vanessa whispered, “Oh my God.”
A strange calm settled over me.
This was no longer an affair.
The affair was almost ordinary compared with this.
Richard had spent months constructing a world in which my death solved his problems.
My insurance money.
My share of the house.
My company interest.
Maybe enough to pay his debts.
Maybe enough to buy Vanessa a new life.
“Did he know the surgery could kill me?”
Daniel looked miserable.
“The donor risk is low.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Yes. He knew there was risk.”
I folded the letter carefully.
My incision throbbed.
I was suddenly exhausted beyond words.
“Margaret, I need to lie down.”
She immediately helped me stand.
Vanessa remained near the desk.
“What about me?”
I looked at her.
“Go home.”
“Richard will know I didn’t destroy the file.”
“Yes.”
“What do I tell him?”
“The truth.”
Her face tightened.
“That I met you?”
“No.”
I held her gaze.
“Tell him you destroyed everything.”
Margaret stared at me.
Daniel did too.
Vanessa understood first.
“You want him to think you still know nothing.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard has spent months making plans based on the assumption that I’m predictable.”
I folded the forged agreement.
“For once, I’d like him to keep believing that.”
Vanessa nodded slowly.
Then she left.
Daniel promised to meet us the following morning with complete company records.
Before leaving, he turned back.
“There’s something else.”
Margaret groaned.
“Does anyone in this marriage have information that isn’t followed by ‘something else’?”
Daniel ignored her.
“Richard didn’t start moving money eighteen months ago.”
“When did he?”
“Almost four years ago.”
I stared at him.
“That’s before he met Vanessa.”
“Exactly.”
“Then where was it going?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re his accountant.”
“I handled the legitimate books.”
“And the illegitimate ones?”
“Someone else.”
“Who?”
“I’ve been trying to find out.”
He left.
Margaret helped me upstairs.
I took medication.
For nearly an hour, I lay awake staring at the ceiling.
Four years.
This began before Vanessa.
Before kidney failure.
Before the transplant.
Whatever Richard was doing, the affair wasn’t the cause.
It was another symptom.
At 4:11 a.m., my phone buzzed.
A message from Sophie.
Mom, are you awake?
I typed:
Yes.
Three dots appeared.
Then:
Dad called me.
I sat upright too quickly.
Pain tore across my side.
What did he want?
Another pause.
Mom, this is weird.
Tell me.
She sent a photograph.
It showed a legal document.
At the top:
BENNETT FAMILY TRUST.
Below it was a signature line.
Mine.
Again.
Sophie wrote:
Dad asked me if I remembered watching you sign this last Christmas.
I stared at the date.
December 26.
I had been in Boston with Margaret that entire day.
Then Sophie sent another message.
There’s something else.
Dad told me not to tell Ethan.
Why?
May you like
Her answer appeared.
Because Ethan is already involved.
