Chapter 5: The Woman in the Photograph
The police did not arrest Jordan.
Not that morning.
Instead, two officers stood in my hallway while I explained what had happened.
Kayla had already provided them with copies of documents.
Documents claiming Jordan had taken money from her business.
Documents containing his name.
And, according to her, his signature.
I almost laughed when I saw them.
“She forged this.””
One officer looked at me.
“Do you have evidence?””
I glanced toward the attic.
“Yes.””
Jordan stared at me.
“Mom?””
I held the sealed envelope from Jack.
“Maybe.””
The officers left after taking copies.
The moment the door closed, Jordan collapsed into a chair.
“She wants me arrested.””
“She wants you frightened.””
“What are we going to do?””
I looked at the envelope.
“Find out what your father knew.””
We sat at the kitchen table.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a letter.
Jack's handwriting.
My hands trembled so badly I had to put it down.
Jordan reached for it.
I stopped him.
“No.””
“Mom.””
“I'll read it.””
He nodded.
I unfolded the paper.
The first line made my chest tighten.
*Ellie, if you're reading this, something has gone very wrong.*
I stopped.
The room blurred.
Jack had called me Ellie.
Nobody else did.
I continued.
*There are things I should have told you. I didn't because I thought I could handle them myself. That was my mistake.*
I looked at Jordan.
He was crying silently.
I kept reading.
*Kayla has been asking questions about the house. Not normal questions. Questions about ownership, insurance, your accounts, and what happens if I die before you.*
My fingers went numb.
The letter continued.
*I don't trust her.*
I looked up.
Jordan whispered, “Keep going.””
I did.
**More importantly, I don't trust what she's doing to Jordan. She has debts I don't understand. She has lied about money.
She has asked me to put the house in Jordan's name. I refused.**
My breath caught.
Then I saw the next paragraph.
*If she ever tries to take the house, don't fight her emotionally. Fight her with records. Everything leaves a record eventually.*
I stared at those words.
Everything leaves a record.
Jack had known.
He had known.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
At the bottom of the page was another sentence.
*There is one person who knows where the original records are. Her name is Margaret Cole.*
Jordan frowned.
“Who is Margaret Cole?””
“I don't know.””
“Did Dad ever mention her?””
I shook my head.
Then I remembered.
A woman had attended Jack's funeral.
She had stood at the back.
Gray hair.
Blue coat.
She had approached me afterward.
“You need to be careful,” she'd whispered.
I had thought she meant grief.
I had never seen her again.
I picked up the flash drive.
“There's something on this.””
Jordan stared.
“How do we open it?””
“I don't know.””
The laptop showed a password prompt.
I tried Jack's birthday.
Wrong.
Our anniversary.
Wrong.
Jordan's birthday.
Wrong.
I looked at the note.
Everything leaves a record.
I typed the date we bought the house.
The screen opened.
There were folders.
Bank statements.
Emails.
Scanned documents.
Photographs.
And one folder titled:
*KAYLA — 2019-2026*
Jordan whispered, “Oh God.””
I opened it.
The first document was a bank statement.
Then another.
Then another.
Thousands of dollars transferred from Kayla's business account.
To different people.
Some were labeled.
Some were not.
Then I found something worse.
A payment made six months before she moved in.
To a private investigator.
Jordan stared at the screen.
“Why would she hire a private investigator?””
I didn't answer.
I opened the next file.
It was a report.
My name was in it.
My address.
My daily schedule.
My bank.
My insurance.
My husband's death certificate.
I felt sick.
“She was investigating me.””
Jordan shook his head.
“No.””
“Yes.””
He leaned closer.
“Mom…”
There was one final page.
At the bottom was a photograph.
A woman standing outside a bank.
Kayla.
Beside her was a man I didn't recognize.
The date was six months before Kayla asked to move in.
Jordan stared at him.
“That's not her business partner.””
“Who is he?””
“I don't know.””
I enlarged the photograph.
The man turned slightly toward the camera.
Then I saw his face.
I had seen him before.
At Jack's funeral.
I remembered him standing beside the woman in the blue coat.
Margaret Cole.
Jordan whispered, “Mom, look.””
He pointed to the file name.
*TRANSFER PLAN — FINAL VERSION.*
I opened it.
It was a proposed property transfer.
My house.
My signature appeared on the final page.
But this time, there was something different.
A second signature.
The witness.
Margaret Cole.
I stared at the screen.
“Who is she?””
Jordan shook his head.
Then the phone on the kitchen counter rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?””
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then an older woman's voice said,
“Eleanor?””
“Yes.””
“My name is Margaret Cole.””
I gripped the phone.
“How do you know me?””
“I knew your husband.””
“Where are you?””
“That's not important.””
“Why did you witness a document transferring my house?””
A pause.
Then she whispered,
“Because I was there when Kayla tried to make your husband sign it.””
I stood.
“What?””
“I've waited six years to tell you.””
“Why?””
“Because Jack made me promise.””
“Promise what?””
“That I would only speak if Kayla came after the house.””
My heart pounded.
“She has.””
“I know.””
“How?””
“Because she came to see me yesterday.””
I looked at Jordan.
“What did she want?””
Margaret's voice dropped.
“She wanted the original file.””
“What file?””
“The one your husband hid.””
“Where is it?””
“I have it.””
I closed my eyes.
“Margaret, please.””
“You need to understand something first.””
“What?””
“Your husband didn't die because of an accident.””
The room went silent.
Jordan stood.
“What did she say?”” he mouthed.
I couldn't answer.
Margaret continued.
“Jack was poisoned.””
I felt the phone slip against my palm.
“No.””
“I saw the medical report.””
“They said heart failure.””
“They were wrong.””
“Who poisoned him?””
Margaret breathed into the phone.
“I don't know.””
“Then who does?””
Another pause.
Then she said,
“The man in the photograph.””
My eyes returned to the screen.
The stranger beside Kayla.
“Who is he?””
Margaret's voice shook.
“His name is Daniel Cross.””
Jordan suddenly stepped toward me.
“Mom.””
I looked at him.
He was staring at another file on the laptop.
A file that had opened by itself.
Inside was a scanned photograph of Jack.
And beside him stood Daniel Cross.
The date on the photograph was printed underneath.
*Three days before Jack died.*
Jordan whispered,
“That's Kayla's father.””
I looked at the photograph.
Then at the phone.
“Margaret?””
No answer.
“Margaret?””
The line was still connected.
Then I heard her whisper one final sentence.
“Eleanor, Kayla isn't trying to take your house.””
My blood ran cold.
“What is she trying to take?””
Margaret inhaled sharply.
“She's trying to take what your husband left inside it.””
May you like
The call ended.
And upstairs, from somewhere inside my house, I heard a door slam.
