Chapter 8: The Man Who Knew My Mother's Secret
Natalie refused to let me reply to Victor Hale.
“Whatever he wants to tell you, he can tell your legal representative,” she said, closing her notebook.
“You are not obligated to have a private conversation with a man whose interests may conflict with yours.””
“But what if he knows something important?””
“Then we obtain it through a process that protects you.””
She explained that she would contact Victor's attorney, if he had one, and request that any relevant communications be preserved. She also asked Evelyn to secure the original estate correspondence concerning the Hawthorne Building.
I agreed.
But after Natalie left, I couldn't stop thinking about the message.
Ask what happened to the original ownership records in 2021.
My mother had died in 2023.
Whatever happened in 2021 had occurred while she was alive.
And if it was important enough for Victor Hale to mention now, it might have been connected to the financial concerns she'd tried to investigate before her death.
That evening, after Rachel helped me settle Emma for the night, I opened an old photo album on my laptop.
I wasn't looking for legal evidence.
I wanted to see my mother.
The first photographs showed her in her thirties, standing outside a small brick building with a paper cup of coffee in one hand. Her hair was shorter then, and she wore a yellow scarf I'd never liked because I thought it made her look like a traffic sign.
I smiled despite myself.
She'd laughed when I told her that.
“You'll appreciate it when you're older,” she'd said.
I never had the chance to tell her she was right about so many things.
I scrolled through photographs of family dinners, birthdays, and summer holidays until I found one taken in the autumn of 2021.
My mother stood in front of the Hawthorne Building beside a man in a dark suit.
I zoomed in.
The man was holding a folder.
My mother looked serious.
Behind them, a bronze plaque beside the entrance displayed the building's name.
I stared at the man's face.
I didn't recognize him.
But I recognized the car parked behind him.
It was a dark blue Mercedes with a distinctive silver stripe along the side.
I'd seen that car before.
Not in a photograph.
In our driveway.
My breath caught.
Derek had owned a blue Mercedes for approximately a year, but his had been newer and had no stripe.
Still, the resemblance was unsettling.
I saved the photograph and sent it to Natalie with a note asking whether she could identify the man.
Then I continued scrolling.
A few photographs later, I found another image.
My mother was sitting at our kitchen table with Derek.
They were both smiling.
It had been taken at Christmas, months before her death.
Derek held a mug of coffee while my mother leaned toward him, listening intently.
I remembered that afternoon.
I'd been in the living room wrapping presents. They'd insisted on talking privately because my mother wanted to ask Derek about his business.
At the time, I'd thought it was a sweet gesture.
Now I wondered what they'd discussed.
I enlarged the photograph.
Beside Derek's elbow was a folder.
On its cover were three printed words.
*HAWTHORNE OWNERSHIP RECORDS.*
I stared at them until my eyes hurt.
Why had my mother been discussing ownership records with my husband?
And why had she never mentioned it to me?
I was still looking at the photograph when Natalie called.
“Claire, I've identified the man in the first image.””
“Who is he?””
“His name is Martin Cole. He was a property administrator who worked with your mother on the Hawthorne Building's records.””
“Does he still work there?””
“No. He left the firm in 2022.””
“Why?””
“I'm trying to establish that. But I found something else in the estate file.””
I sat up straighter.
“What?””
“Your mother reported that several original documents relating to the property's ownership had gone missing from a storage facility in 2021.””
My throat tightened.
“Were they stolen?””
“We don't know. The report states that the documents could not be located during an audit. Your mother requested an investigation, but the matter appears to have stalled.””
“Did she suspect anyone?””
“There's a reference to a person who had been given temporary access to the records.””
“Who?””
Natalie paused.
“Derek Miller.””
I felt as if the room had tilted.
“No.””
“The records indicate that he visited the storage facility while assisting your mother with a business-related matter. That doesn't prove he took anything or acted improperly.””
“Why would he have access to my mother's property documents?””
“That's what we're trying to determine.””
I pressed a hand against my mouth.
My mother had trusted Derek enough to let him help her.
I'd trusted him enough to believe he would never take advantage of that trust.
And now there was a missing file, a suspicious credit facility, and a signed agreement promising my inheritance to a man I had never met.
“Did my mother confront him?”” I asked.
“There's a note indicating that she asked him about the missing records. The file doesn't contain a complete account of his response.””
“Can I see it?””
“Yes. I'll arrange for you to review the relevant documents with me.””
I looked toward the nursery.
Emma was asleep, her chest rising and falling beneath the blanket.
I wanted to believe there was a simple explanation.
Perhaps Derek had misplaced something.
Perhaps the agreement with Victor was an empty promise made during a financial crisis.
Perhaps the loan application was a misunderstanding.
But each new fact made those explanations harder to accept.
“What should I do?”” I asked.
“Keep the evidence safe. Don't contact Martin Cole or Victor directly. And don't let Derek know what we've found until we've established the facts.””
After the call, I went to the nursery.
Rachel was sitting beside Emma's bassinet, reading a book she'd bought years earlier.
She looked up when I entered.
“What happened?””
I told her about the missing documents.
When I finished, she closed the book.
“Claire, I need you to hear me. You are not responsible for discovering this sooner. Your mother was investigating it, and Derek may have deliberately kept you from knowing.””
I sat beside her.
“I keep remembering all the times he told me I was bad with money.””
Rachel frowned.
“What do you mean?””
“He'd say I didn't understand investments. That I worried too much about small expenses. That I should leave the complicated things to him.””
She was silent.
“I believed him,” I continued.
“I thought he was better at those things, so I let him handle everything.””
“That's what partners do when they trust each other.””
“What if he used that trust against me?””
Rachel reached over and squeezed my hand.
“Then he is responsible for that choice. Not you.””
I nodded, but the guilt remained.
Later that night, while Rachel prepared dinner, I opened the message from Victor again.
I didn't respond.
Instead, I forwarded it to Natalie.
Then I received an email from Evelyn.
It contained a scanned copy of a letter my mother had written to the property administrator in December 2021.
The letter was brief.
Martin,
Following our discussion, I need confirmation of who accessed the Hawthorne ownership file on November 18. The documents were present during the October review and missing when I returned in November.
I am particularly concerned because the file contains the original memorandum establishing my controlling interest.
Please do not release any further copies until I have met with you and my attorney.
Regards,
Margaret Miller.
My mother's signature appeared at the bottom.
I read the letter twice.
November 18.
I remembered that date.
It was the day Derek had told me he was attending an overnight business conference in Chicago.
He'd left before dawn and returned the following evening.
When I'd asked how the conference went, he'd complained about a difficult investor who wanted everything on his own terms.
I had never asked for the investor's name.
I sent the letter to Natalie and explained the date.
She called me less than ten minutes later.
“Claire, do you have any proof that Derek was in Chicago that day?””
“Not yet. I might have emails or photographs.””
“Don't search any account he controls or access anything without authorization. Look for records you already possess, such as travel messages he sent you or photographs on your own device.””
I searched my personal email.
At 6:42 a.m. on November 18, Derek had texted me a photograph of himself standing beside an airport departure board.
The caption read:
Chicago. Back tomorrow. Love you.
I stared at the photograph.
He was wearing the same dark blue suit he'd worn in the Christmas photograph with my mother.
I enlarged the background.
The departure board displayed several flights, but the image didn't prove when or where it had been taken.
It might have been old.
It might have been genuine.
I forwarded it to Natalie with the original message.
“Thank you,” she said.
“We'll preserve it and compare it with the records we obtain lawfully.””
“Do you think he was lying about the trip?””
“I don't know. But the timing is worth investigating.””
I hung up and sat quietly.
For the first time, I understood how little I knew about the life I'd shared with Derek.
I'd known his coffee order, his favorite restaurant, the way he liked his shirts folded, and which side of the bed he preferred.
I knew how he laughed when he was genuinely amused.
I knew he hated thunderstorms and loved old movies.
But I hadn't known about the loan.
I hadn't known about the agreement with Victor.
And I hadn't known that my mother had questioned him about missing property records.
I knew the small details of my husband.
I didn't know what he'd done when he thought I wasn't looking.
At 10:38 p.m., my phone rang.
Derek.
I declined the call.
He sent a message.
I know you're talking to Evelyn.
Another followed.
I know about the documents you found.
I froze.
How could he know?
Had he seen the forwarded email?
Had someone told him?
Or was he simply guessing?
Then another message appeared.
Your mother wasn't the saint you think she was, Claire. She made promises she couldn't keep, and Victor is the one who paid the price.
My fingers went numb.
A final message followed.
Ask Evelyn who really owned the Hawthorne Building before your mother died.
I stared at the screen.
The words were carefully chosen.
Not a threat.
Not an apology.
A challenge.
Derek wanted me to doubt my mother.
He wanted me to question the very person who had spent years trying to protect me.
I forwarded the messages to Natalie.
Then I called Evelyn.
She answered with a worried voice.
“Claire?””
“Derek says my mother made promises she couldn't keep. He says Victor paid the price.””
Evelyn was silent for a moment.
Then she said, “Your mother and Victor Hale had a business relationship before the ownership dispute began.””
“What kind of relationship?””
“They were both involved in the acquisition of the Hawthorne Building. Your mother invested the majority of the capital, while Victor's company provided financing and management support.””
“Then why is he challenging her estate?””
“That's what we need to establish.””
“Was Derek involved in the original acquisition?””
“I haven't found evidence that he was.””
I closed my eyes.
“Evelyn, did my mother ever tell you she was afraid of Derek?””
A long pause followed.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
My heart stopped.
“When?””
“Shortly before she died.””
“What did she say?””
“She told me that Derek had asked her to sign a document concerning the Hawthorne Building. She refused. After that, she believed he might try to obtain the property through another route.””
I gripped the phone.
“What document?””
“I don't know. She didn't give me a copy.””
“Why didn't you tell me this before?””
“Because I wanted to verify the details before making an accusation, and because you had just given birth. I was trying to protect you from unnecessary distress.””
I looked toward the nursery door.
My daughter was sleeping just a few feet away.
The world had changed in less than two days.
My marriage was crumbling.
My inheritance was threatened.
And the man I'd once trusted with every part of my life might have been involved in a scheme that began before my mother died.
“Evelyn,” I whispered, “I need to know everything.””
“I understand.””
“Even if it hurts.””
“I understand.””
She paused.
“There's something else you should know. I found a reference to a sealed document in your mother's estate file. It was not included in the records we received from the property administrator.””
“What document?””
“A private agreement between your mother and Victor Hale.””
I stared at the dark window.
“What did it say?””
“We don't know. But the reference includes a date, a witness, and a note in your mother's handwriting.””
“What note?””
Evelyn took a breath.
“It says, 'If anything happens to me, Claire must know who signed the original transfer.''”
My skin went cold.
“Who signed it?””
“I don't know yet.””
I looked at the photograph of my mother standing outside the Hawthorne Building.
May you like
For the first time, I wondered whether the story I'd been told about my inheritance was only part of the truth.
And whether the person who could explain everything was the same man who had just threatened to destroy my life.
