Chapter 6 - The Thanksgiving Meeting
Natalie read the message three times.
Evan looked over her shoulder.
“What does she mean?”
“I don't know.”
Another message came.
Diane: You think the twenty people were there for dinner.
Natalie felt her stomach tighten.
A third message arrived.
They were there because I needed witnesses.
Evan's face drained of color.
“Witnesses to what?”
Natalie typed:
What are you talking about?
The reply was immediate.
Come to the old farmhouse.
Alone.
Evan reached for the phone.
“No.”
Natalie pulled it back.
“She wants me alone.”
“She wants to manipulate you.”
“Probably.”
“So don't go.”
Natalie looked toward the basement.
“Maybe we shouldn't.”
Then another message appeared.
If you want to know what your husband signed five years ago, come alone.
Natalie went still.
Evan saw the message.
“What did I sign?”
She showed him.
He shook his head.
“I don't remember signing anything.”
“Then we need to find out what she means.”
“I'll go with you.”
“She specifically said alone.”
“Exactly.”
They decided to meet at the old farmhouse together anyway.
Not because Diane asked.
Because neither of them trusted her.
The farmhouse had belonged to Evan's grandfather.
It sat fifteen minutes outside town.
It had been empty for years.
When Natalie and Evan arrived, the lights were on.
Diane stood on the porch.
She looked different.
Not angry.
Not smug.
Terrified.
“You came.”
Evan stepped out of the car.
“We both did.”
Diane looked at him.
“I asked for Natalie.”
“She is my wife.”
“You need to stay out of this.”
“No.”
Diane closed her eyes.
“You never listen.”
Evan walked toward her.
“What did I sign?”
She said nothing.
He repeated the question.
“What did I sign?”
Diane stepped aside.
“Come in.”
The farmhouse smelled dusty.
Old wood.
Cold stone.
Memory.
Diane led them to the kitchen.
She opened a drawer.
Pulled out a folder.
And gave it to Evan.
He opened it.
Inside was a home-equity agreement.
Five years old.
He looked at Natalie.
“I don't remember this.”
She read it.
The document listed the house as collateral for a business loan.
The borrower was a company called Brooks Family Ventures.
Evan stared.
“I never owned this company.”
“You didn't,” Diane said.
“Then why am I listed?”
“Because your father needed your signature.”
“My father was dead by then.”
“Yes.”
Evan looked at her.
“What?”
Diane swallowed.
“Your father wasn't dead when you signed it.”
The room went silent.
Natalie's heart stopped.
Evan stared at his mother.
“My father died six years ago.”
“He died five years ago.”
“No.”
Diane looked at him.
“I lied about the date.”
Natalie stepped back.
“What?”
Diane started crying.
“Your father was sick.”
“You said he was in hospice.”
“He was.”
“Then why change the date?”
“Because he signed the loan before he died.”
Evan shook his head.
“I don't understand.”
Diane pointed to the folder.
“The company was failing.”
“And?”
“We needed collateral.”
“So you used our house.”
“Yes.”
“You didn't ask me.”
“I couldn't.”
“Why not?”
“Because you would have said no.”
Evan's voice cracked.
“Yes.”
Diane flinched.
She knew what he meant.
“Your father promised everything would be repaid.”
“And wasn't.”
“No.”
“How much do we owe?”
Diane whispered:
“Three hundred eighty thousand.”
Natalie felt dizzy.
“Our house is collateral for three hundred eighty thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“Harper Family Holdings.”
Natalie froze.
The same company from the basement.
She looked at Diane.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the transfer.”
“Yes.”
“And Richard?”
“He knew the original agreement.”
Evan rubbed his forehead.
“So you're telling me you used my inheritance, sold my grandfather's company, put our house up as collateral, and then invited twenty people to Thanksgiving so you could what?”
Diane looked at Natalie.
“I needed witnesses.”
“To what?”
Diane's answer came in a whisper.
“That I tried to protect you.”
Natalie stared at her.
“That's your defense?”
“No.”
Diane looked down.
“My defense is that if I hadn't done these things, your husband would have lost everything.”
“He already did,” Natalie said.
Diane looked up.
“What?”
“You took his inheritance.”
“I saved him.”
“You took his truth.”
Diane's face crumpled.
Evan looked at the floor.
Then he saw another folder.
“What is that?”
Diane tried to move it.
He stopped her.
He opened it.
The papers inside were not financial.
They were medical records.
His father's.
Dated years earlier.
Natalie looked at them.
There was a diagnosis.
A terminal illness.
But the date was different from what the family had been told.
His father had been diagnosed almost two years before his death.
Evan stared at the records.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Diane couldn't answer.
Then he found a letter.
His father had written it.
For Evan.
But it had never been delivered.
Evan unfolded it.
My son,
There are things your mother will tell you after I am gone.
Do not believe everything.
If she says I wanted the house protected, ask why.
If she says the company failed, ask who profited.
And if she says the family was united, ask who benefited from the division.
Evan's hands shook.
He stopped reading.
Natalie took the letter.
The last paragraph was worse.
The person your mother fears most is not me.
It is the person she partnered with.
Natalie looked up.
“Who?”
Diane started crying.
“I don't know.”
“You said you partnered with someone.”
“I thought I knew who he was.”
“Who?”
Diane looked toward the window.
“Victor Lane.”
Evan stiffened.
“He's dead.”
“No.”
Diane shook her head.
“He isn't.”
The room fell silent.
Natalie remembered the photographs.
The messages.
The hidden transfers.
The forged documents.
Then something outside caught her eye.
A car sat across the road.
Dark.
Engine running.
Natalie stepped closer to the window.
“There.”
Evan turned.
“What?”
“The car.”
The vehicle moved.
Slowly.
Then disappeared beyond the trees.
Evan grabbed his jacket.
They ran outside.
The road was empty.
Then Evan stopped.
There was an envelope tucked under the windshield wiper.
Natalie looked at him.
He removed it.
His name was written on the front.
Inside was a single photograph.
Victor Lane standing beside their house.
Taken three weeks earlier.
May you like
On the back were four words.
You have until Monday.
