Chapter 7: The Blue Box Beneath the Floorboards
Juliette lunged toward the brass key.
Margaret stepped between us, raising one hand.
"Mrs. Miller, I strongly suggest you sit down.""
"That key belongs to my husband!""
I tightened my fingers around it.
"Your husband left it to me.""
"He left it in my house!""
I looked around the living room.
"Actually, Juliette, this is my house.""
Her face twisted.
For once, she had no clever response.
Wade approached slowly.
"Mom, what's the blue box?""
Juliette turned toward him.
"Nothing. It's an old family keepsake.""
"Then why are you so upset?""
"Because your wife is making a spectacle out of everything!""
I glanced at Margaret.
She gave me a small nod.
"Annie, perhaps we should determine what your father-in-law intended you to find before making any assumptions.""
I looked at the key.
It was old brass, slightly tarnished, with a tiny number stamped near the handle.
17.
I remembered Robert's workshop.
He had built dozens of cabinets, repaired antique furniture, and kept boxes of old tools beneath his workbench.
But I had never seen a blue box.
"Did Dad ever mention something like this?"" Wade asked.
I shook my head.
"Not to me.""
Juliette folded her arms.
"Robert was sentimental. He kept all kinds of useless things.""
Margaret glanced at her.
"Then surely you won't object to Annie examining them.""
Juliette looked toward the front door.
"Fine. Do whatever you want.""
But she didn't leave.
She sat back down and watched every movement.
I knew she was waiting for something.
And I had a feeling it wasn't good.
After Margaret left, I took the key upstairs.
Wade followed me.
"Where are you going?""
"To look for the box.""
"Annie, maybe we should wait until tomorrow.""
I stopped at the top of the stairs.
"Why?""
He rubbed his forehead.
"Because Mom is upset, the girls are upset, and this whole situation is getting out of control.""
I stared at him.
"Your mother tried to put a six-hundred-thousand-dollar property up for sale without my permission. She submitted a loan application using my signature. You signed paperwork to remove me as trustee. And you're worried about everybody being upset?""
He looked down.
"I know.""
"No, Wade. You don't.""
I continued toward the bedroom.
He followed me inside.
"Can we please talk?""
I placed the key on the dresser.
"About what?""
"Us.""
I almost laughed.
"There's no us conversation until I understand what you've done.""
He sat on the edge of the bed.
"I never wanted to hurt you.""
"Then why did you help your mother?""
"She told me Dad had promised her the property.""
"And you believed her over the legal documents?""
"I was confused.""
I looked at him.
"You were confused for two years?""
He didn't answer.
I picked up Robert's letter.
"Your father trusted me with something. He specifically warned me about your mother. And you knew all of this while allowing her to walk through my house every weekend, rearranging furniture and treating me like a servant.""
Wade's eyes filled.
"Annie, I was trying to avoid conflict.""
I shook my head.
"You didn't avoid conflict. You transferred all of it to me.""
Then I walked out.
Robert's old workshop stood behind the barn.
It was a weathered wooden building with a green metal roof and a door that always stuck during humid weather.
I hadn't entered it in months.
The smell hit me immediately.
Old pine.
Machine oil.
Dust.
And the faint scent of the tobacco Robert used to keep in his coat pocket.
Everything was exactly as he'd left it.
His workbench.
His collection of screwdrivers.
The wooden chair with the cracked leather seat.
On the wall hung a photograph of Wade at twelve years old, standing beside his father with a freshly caught bass.
I ran my fingers along the workbench.
"Where did you hide it, Robert?"" I whispered.
I examined the drawers.
Nothing.
I checked the cabinets.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a small wooden panel beneath the workbench.
It looked slightly newer than the surrounding wood.
I knelt and pressed against it.
The panel shifted.
Behind it was a narrow compartment.
And inside sat a blue metal box.
My heart started pounding.
The box was about the size of a shoebox, with chipped paint and a small brass lock.
I pulled out the key.
It fit perfectly.
Click.
The lock opened.
I lifted the lid.
Inside were several envelopes, a thick stack of bank statements, a small flash drive, and a black leather notebook.
On top sat another letter.
Annie,
If you have found this box, then the situation has probably become worse than I hoped.
I sat down on Robert's old chair.
I discovered that Juliette had been using family assets to cover debts she never discussed with me. At first, I thought she was simply careless with money. Then I found evidence that she had been arranging loans using documents connected to this farm.
I stopped reading.
The room seemed suddenly smaller.
I opened the first envelope.
It contained copies of bank transfers.
Several payments had been made from an account connected to Robert's agricultural business.
The amounts were staggering.
$18,000.
$32,500.
$47,000.
The transfers had occurred over several years.
I turned to the next page.
There was a list of account numbers, dates, and handwritten notes.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Juliette.
I felt sick.
Then I opened the black notebook.
Robert had written everything in chronological order.
There were references to conversations, bank meetings, property valuations, and several unexplained withdrawals.
But one entry made my blood run cold.
October 14: Wade admitted that he gave Juliette copies of the farm documents. Says she told him she needed them for tax purposes.
I stared at the sentence.
Then I turned the page.
October 19: Wade came to me asking whether Annie would be willing to sign a temporary authorization. I refused. He seemed frightened.
I swallowed.
Robert had known.
He had known that his own son was involved.
The next entry was dated three days later.
October 22: Juliette came to the workshop while Annie was at the grocery store. She demanded the blue box. I told her she would never get it.
My hands trembled.
I turned to the last page.
The handwriting was shakier.
If something happens to me, Annie must know that the farm is not the only thing at risk. The documents in this box explain where the money went. They also explain why Juliette is so desperate to get control of the property.
I looked toward the door.
A shadow moved across the frosted window.
Someone was outside.
"Annie?""
Wade.
I closed the notebook.
"Come in.""
He opened the door.
His eyes went straight to the blue box.
"What did you find?""
I studied him.
"Your father kept records.""
Wade stepped closer.
"What kind of records?""
"Bank transfers. Property documents. Notes.""
His face changed.
"Annie, I think you should give those to Margaret.""
"I will.""
He looked at the notebook.
"Did you read it?""
"Some of it.""
He swallowed.
"Does it mention me?""
I didn't answer immediately.
Then I asked:
"Why would you be worried about that?""
He shook his head.
"I'm not.""
But he was.
And I knew it.
I placed the notebook inside the box.
Wade reached toward it.
I pulled it away.
"Don't.""
He withdrew his hand.
"Annie, I'm your husband.""
"And right now, you're also someone whose name appears in these records.""
He stared at me.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice came through loudly enough for me to hear.
Juliette.
"Did she find it?""
Wade glanced at me.
"No.""
I looked at the blue box.
Then at him.
He was lying.
Juliette spoke again.
"Listen carefully. You have until tomorrow morning. If Annie gives those papers to the attorney, we're all finished.""
Wade closed his eyes.
"Mom, stop.""
There was a pause.
Then Juliette said something that made him grip the phone tightly.
"You promised me you would take care of the original documents.""
The call ended.
I stared at my husband.
"What original documents?""
He didn't respond.
I stood.
"Wade, what did you promise your mother?""
He looked toward the workshop door.
Then he whispered:
"The deed.""
I felt my blood turn cold.
"What deed?""
"The original deed to the farmhouse.""
I tightened my grip on the blue box.
"Where is it?""
He looked at me.
May you like
And his answer changed everything.
"Mom has it.""
