Chapter 7: The Man My Mother Warned Me About
For several seconds, I couldn't take my eyes off the photograph.
Tasha's mother stood in front of a white wooden house, smiling at whoever had taken the picture. She wore a blue cardigan and held a little girl on her hip.
Tasha.
She couldn't have been more than three years old.
Beside Eleanor stood a tall man with dark hair, one hand resting casually on the fence. He looked to be in his late thirties. His expression was serious, but there was something familiar about his eyes.
I had never seen him before.
Neither had Tasha.
At least, not that she remembered.
"Where did you get this?"" I asked.
"It was in the envelope with Mom's letter."" Tasha turned the photograph over again.
"I thought it was just an old family picture.""
I read the handwriting once more.
If Marcus asks, you never saw him.
"Who is he?""
"I don't know.""
"Could he be your mother's brother? A cousin?""
"Mom didn't have any brothers. She had one sister, but she moved to Oregon before I was born.""
I studied the man's face.
"Then why would she write this?""
Tasha shook her head.
"I don't know, Maya.""
Across the conference table, Daniel Mercer held out his hand.
"May I see the photograph?""
Tasha passed it to him.
He studied the front, then the handwriting on the back. His expression remained professional, but I noticed his fingers tighten around the edges.
"Mr. Mercer?"" I asked.
"Do you recognize him?""
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he asked Tasha, "Did your mother ever mention someone named Andrew?""
Tasha's face changed.
"Andrew?""
"Andrew Brooks.""
She stared at him.
"No.""
"Not even once?""
"Mom rarely talked about her family before she met Dad. But she never mentioned Andrew.""
Mr. Mercer placed the photograph on the table.
"I don't want to speculate based on a picture. However, the name Andrew Brooks appears in an older document associated with your mother's estate.""
Tasha leaned forward.
"What document?""
"A copy of a property agreement. I haven't reviewed the entire file yet, but his name appears as a witness.""
"Why would he be a witness?""
"That's something we need to establish.""
Helen Carter opened her portfolio again.
"Could he have been involved in the original trust?""
"Possibly," Mr. Mercer replied.
"I need to review the underlying documents.""
Tasha looked as though she might cry again.
"Why would Mom tell me never to let Marcus know I'd seen him?""
No one answered.
Then Mr. Mercer spoke carefully.
"There are many possible explanations. Your mother may have been protecting someone, avoiding a family dispute, or referring to circumstances we don't yet understand. We should not assume the note proves wrongdoing.""
I nodded, but the words didn't calm me.
The photograph had introduced a new question into a case that already contained too many.
Who was Andrew Brooks?
Why had Eleanor warned Tasha about Marcus?
And why had that warning been hidden inside the same envelope as the bank notice?
Helen suggested that we make a digital copy of the photograph and preserve the original. Mr. Mercer arranged to request the complete estate file from the firm named in Marcus's proposed settlement agreement.
Before we left, Tasha asked one final question.
"Can Dad force me to sign that release?""
"No," Mr. Mercer said.
"You should not sign a document simply because someone pressures you. If he believes he has a legitimate claim or explanation, he can provide the relevant records and let them be reviewed.""
Tasha looked down.
"He keeps saying that Mom wouldn't want me to do this.""
Mr. Mercer's expression softened.
"Your mother's wishes should be determined from her actual documents and reliable evidence, not from someone else's use of her name.""
Tasha pressed the photograph against her chest.
For the first time, she seemed willing to consider that Marcus might not be the only person who had decided what her mother wanted.
We left the office shortly after noon.
Outside, Tasha stopped beside the steps.
"I need to go to Mom's old house.""
I looked at her.
"Why?""
"Because I remember something.""
She closed her eyes, trying to pull the memory into focus.
"When I was little, Mom used to take me to the house on Sundays. There was a wooden box in her bedroom closet. She told me never to open it unless she was with me.""
"Did you ever see what was inside?""
"No. After she died, Dad said the box had been thrown away with the rest of her old things.""
I remembered the property records.
The house had been sold several months after Eleanor's death.
"What if the box was still there when the house was sold?""
"Then someone might know what happened to it.""
We called Mr. Mercer before doing anything. He advised us not to enter the property without permission and promised to check whether the current owner could be contacted.
A few hours later, he called back.
The house had changed hands twice since Eleanor's death. The current owner had agreed to speak with Tasha the following afternoon, provided we didn't disturb the property or enter without permission.
It was the first encouraging development we'd had in days.
That evening, I returned home alone.
I wanted to collect some clothes, my schoolbooks, and the charger I'd forgotten in my bedroom. Tasha stayed with her friend.
My mother opened the front door before I could use my key.
Her eyes were swollen.
"Maya.""
"Hi, Mom.""
She looked past me, as if expecting Tasha to be standing on the porch.
"Where is she?""
"With a friend.""
"She's still refusing to come home?""
"She's not refusing to come home. She's trying to understand what happened to her money.""
Mom stepped aside.
"Come in.""
I followed her to the kitchen.
The birthday cake had been thrown away. The balloons were gone, and the counter had been wiped clean.
Yet the Highlander was still in the driveway.
I glanced through the window.
"Why is the car still here?""
"Marcus says the dealership won't accept the return until the financing arrangement is clarified.""
"Then he should clarify it.""
She sat at the kitchen island and rubbed her temples.
"You think everything is simple.""
"No. I think he keeps making simple questions complicated.""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You don't know what he's been dealing with.""
"Then tell me.""
She looked away.
I sat across from her.
"Mom, I need you to answer one question honestly. Did you know about the earlier transfers from Tasha's trust?""
She pressed her lips together.
"Marcus told me he had arranged temporary financing.""
"How much?""
"I don't know.""
"Did you see the statements?""
"No.""
"Did you ask?""
She didn't answer.
I felt anger rising again.
"You helped raise Tasha for six years. You watched her work late shifts and give up on college because she thought her money was gone. How could you not ask?""
Mom flinched.
"I thought it would be temporary.""
"Everything is temporary when you don't want to face it.""
She covered her face.
For a moment, I thought she would tell me everything.
Instead, she reached into a drawer and removed a small envelope.
"I found this in Marcus's office," she said.
I stared at it.
"What is it?""
"A letter. It came from the law firm that handled Eleanor's estate.""
My heart began pounding.
"Why do you have it?""
"Because I was looking for the documents Marcus said he needed for the dealership. I found the letter underneath a stack of invoices.""
"Did you read it?""
"Only part of it.""
She slid it across the counter.
The letter was dated nearly two years earlier.
It was addressed to Marcus and concerned a dispute over the administration of Eleanor's estate.
The first paragraph mentioned the trust.
The second referred to a request for an accounting.
Then I saw a name.
Andrew Brooks.
The letter stated that Andrew had contacted the firm to request information regarding certain assets that had belonged to his sister, Eleanor.
My mother's fingers trembled.
"Marcus told me Andrew was a distant relative who had no involvement in the estate.""
I looked up.
"But the letter says he requested information about it.""
"I know.""
"Why didn't you tell Tasha?""
Mom began crying.
"Because Marcus said Andrew was trying to take the inheritance away from her.""
I stared at her.
"What?""
"He said Andrew had been estranged from Eleanor for years. He told me the man wanted control of the trust and would use Tasha to get it.""
"Do you know if that's true?""
"No.""
"Did you ever speak to Andrew?""
She shook her head.
"Marcus said he'd handled it.""
I looked back at the letter.
It didn't prove Andrew was trustworthy, and it didn't explain the warning on the photograph. But it showed that someone had asked questions about Eleanor's estate long before Tasha discovered the dealership payment.
Someone had been trying to get information.
Someone Marcus had apparently wanted kept away.
I folded the letter carefully.
"Mom, Tasha needs to see this.""
"I know.""
"Then why are you giving it to me?""
My mother looked at me with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Because I don't think your stepfather is telling me the truth anymore.""
The admission left me speechless.
Before I could respond, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Marcus appeared in the kitchen doorway.
His gaze moved from my mother to the letter in my hand.
For one second, he looked genuinely frightened.
Then his expression hardened.
"Where did you get that?""
Mom stood abruptly.
"Marcus, we need to talk.""
He ignored her.
"Maya. Give me the letter.""
I held it against my chest.
"No.""
He took a step forward.
"That document is confidential.""
"Then why was it hidden under your invoices?""
"Because it belongs to my records.""
"Does it belong to Tasha's estate?""
His jaw tightened.
"Give it to me.""
"No.""
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he said something that made the kitchen feel suddenly smaller.
"You have no idea what that man did to your sister's mother.""
I swallowed.
"What man?""
Marcus's eyes flicked toward the letter.
"Andrew.""
"Then tell us.""
He looked at my mother.
She stood with both hands pressed against the counter, crying silently.
For a moment, I thought he might finally explain.
Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number.
When someone answered, he spoke in a voice I had never heard him use before.
"It's me. They found the letter.""
He listened.
Then his face went pale.
"What do you mean, he knows?""
He ended the call and looked at me.
The anger was gone.
In its place was something much worse.
Fear.
And before he could say another word, my phone rang.
It was Tasha.
"Maya," she whispered, "someone just called me.""
"Who?""
May you like
She took a shaky breath.
"He said his name was Andrew Brooks.""
