Chapter 4 - Chloe’s Awakening
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Helen looked like an animal that had just heard the snap of a steel trap around its ankle. She lunged forward, her manicured fingers clawing for the papers in Bennett’s hand, but this time, Chloe stepped between them.
My little sister—who had always been fragile, who had been coddled and shielded from the harsh realities of the world—stood directly in front of our mother.
"Don't touch him," Chloe said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a cold, vibrating fury I had never heard from her before.
"Chloe, darling, listen to me," Helen plead, her eyes wide, wild, darting erratically. "Arthur has always hated me! He and your father had military secrets, delusions from their time in the desert! He’s trying to tear this family apart to settle an old score!"
"Arthur didn't write this letter, Mom," Chloe whispered, her eyes brimming with tears of disgust. "That’s Dad’s handwriting. I know Dad’s 'R's. I know the way he crosses his 'T's with that little upward flick. He taught me to write that way."
"Your father was sick!"
"He was sick because you were poisoning him!" Chloe shrieked, the sound tearing through the vaulted church ceiling. Several people in the congregation flinched. "All those years... all those times Dad collapsed in the kitchen, and you wouldn't let me call 911! You said he needed rest! You said hospital visits would stress his heart!"
"Chloe..."
"And you made me hate Rachel!" Chloe’s voice broke into a ragged, guttural sob. She turned toward me, her eyes red, swollen, carrying twelve years of manipulated agony. "You told me Rachel walked out because she couldn't stand being around a little sister who needed so much attention. You told me Rachel called me a burden!"
"She did!" Helen snarled, dropping all pretense of maternal gentleness. Her voice turned vicious, ugly, revealing the venom she had hid beneath pearls and Sunday smiles. "She always thought she was better than you! Better than all of us! Look at her standing there in her stupid little costume, playing the hero!"
"That 'costume,'" General Bennett’s voice thundered, cutting through Helen’s tirade like a heavy hammer, "is the uniform of the United States Navy. And unlike you, Helen, the woman wearing it has earned the respect of this entire country."
Bennett turned back to the letter, his thumb tracing a second seal on the bottom of the page.
"Robert knew you would try to claim his mental incompetence, Helen. Which is why, fifteen months ago, he checked himself into the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center under the guise of an old veterans' reunion. He underwent a comprehensive toxicological screen."
General Bennett pulled a sealed, official medical folder from beneath his arm. The blue emblem of the Department of Defense was stamped boldly across the front.
"The tox screen revealed heavy concentrations of thallium in his hair follicles and bone marrow. It was accompanied by an independent psychiatric evaluation certifying that Colonel Robert Lawson was of sound mind, fully cognizant of his surroundings, and acting entirely without duress."
Bennett looked up, his gaze fixing on Sheriff Vance at the back of the sanctuary.
"Robert didn't want Helen arrested while he was alive," Bennett said, his voice dropping into a solemn, grieving tone. "He was too proud. He didn't want the Lawson name dragged through a criminal trial while he was taking his last breaths. But he left strict instructions: upon his death, if Helen attempted to execute the fraudulent will she forced him to sign on his deathbed, the sealed evidence was to be handed directly to law enforcement."
Helen’s knees buckled. She reached out to steady herself on the edge of the front pew, but Deacon Miller, who had sat beside her family for three decades, pulled his arm away, leaving her to stumble against the wood.
"Garrett," Bennett called out to the Sheriff. "I believe you have jurisdiction."
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Sheriff Vance nodded grimly. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his radio, and keyed the mic. "Dispatch, this is Unit One. Send a transport car to Cedar Creek Baptist. Right now."
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