Chapter 5: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Nobody moved.
The phone continued ringing.
Richard Lawson.
Eric's father.
Dead for almost three years.
At least, that was what Eric had told me.
I had attended the funeral.
I had stood beside him while he cried.
I had watched the coffin lowered into the ground.
I remembered Diane collapsing against a church pew.
I remembered the flowers.
I remembered Eric telling me afterward that his father had left behind nothing but debt.
And now his name was glowing on Diane's phone.
“Answer it,” I said.
Diane shook her head.
“No.””
“Answer it.””
“I can't.””
Eric stared at her.
“Mom, answer the phone.””
She backed away.
The ringing stopped.
A message appeared.
Diane looked at it.
Then she dropped the phone.
It hit the floor.
Eric picked it up.
His face changed as he read.
“What does it say?””
He didn't respond.
I walked closer.
“Eric.””
He handed me the phone.
The message was short.
*You were told never to touch Megan's house. Now you have three days to fix what you did.*
My hands went cold.
I looked at the number.
It wasn't saved.
But it was undeniably the same number Eric had used for his father's old contact.
“Your father is alive.””
Eric shook his head.
“No.””
“You saw the number.””
“It can be spoofed.””
“By whom?””
He didn't answer.
Diane whispered, “We need to leave.””
Eric turned.
“Leave?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“Anywhere.””
“You're not going anywhere,” I said.
Diane looked at me.
“You don't understand.””
“Then explain.””
“You think this is about the house.””
“Isn't it?””
“No.””
Her voice cracked.
“It was never about the house.””
Eric stared at her.
“Mom.””
Diane covered her face.
“You weren't supposed to know.””
“What wasn't I supposed to know?”” I asked.
She lowered her hands.
“Your father-in-law didn't die because of heart failure.””
The room seemed to tilt.
“What?””
Eric stepped toward her.
“Stop.””
She shook her head.
“I can't keep doing this.””
“Doing what?””
“Lying.””
I looked at Eric.
He looked genuinely stunned.
“What are you talking about?”” he asked.
Diane whispered, “Richard discovered the accounts.””
“What accounts?””
“The ones Eric was using.””
Eric's face drained.
I stared at him.
“Your company accounts?””
He said nothing.
Diane continued.
“Money was moved out of the business.””
“How much?””
She looked at me.
“Almost three million dollars.””
My eyes went to Eric.
The house.
Nearly three million dollars.
The amount wasn't a coincidence.
It was the amount he had been trying to access.
“What did you do with it?”” I asked.
Eric backed away.
“Megan, listen.””
“No.””
“I was going to replace it.””
“With what?””
“The house.””
“You were going to steal my home to cover money you stole from your own company?””
“I didn't steal it.””
Diane snapped, “You did.””
Eric turned toward her.
“You helped me.””
“I helped you survive.””
“You forged the documents.””
“You asked me to.””
“I asked you to find a way.””
“You knew exactly what I was doing.””
I stood there holding my newborn daughter while the two people who had welcomed me home from the hospital tore each other apart.
Then someone knocked on the front door.
Three slow knocks.
Everyone went silent.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Eric whispered, “Who is that?””
I walked toward the door.
He grabbed my arm.
“Don't.””
I pulled away.
“Don't touch me.””
“Megan, please.””
Another knock.
Diane whispered, “It's him.””
I looked at her.
“Who?””
She couldn't answer.
I reached for the handle.
Eric stepped in front of me.
“I'll do it.””
“No.””
“Megan—”
“You've lied enough.””
I opened the door.
A man stood beneath the porch light.
Older.
Gray-haired.
Wearing a dark coat.
His face was thinner than the photographs I remembered.
But there was no mistaking him.
Richard Lawson.
Eric's father.
The man whose funeral I had attended.
The man everyone had told me was dead.
He looked past me.
His eyes landed on Eric.
Then on Diane.
Finally, he looked at the sleeping baby in my arms.
He removed his gloves.
And when he spoke, his voice was calm.
“Eric, I gave you one chance to tell her the truth.””
Eric couldn't move.
Richard stepped onto the porch.
“You wasted it.””
Diane began crying.
I tightened my hold on Emma.
“What truth?””
Richard looked directly at me.
“The house wasn't the only thing your father protected.””
I frowned.
“My father?””
He nodded.
“Your father and I made an agreement years ago.””
Eric whispered, “Dad, don't.””
Richard ignored him.
He reached inside his coat and removed a thick envelope.
Then he held it out to me.
“Your father knew what Eric would eventually become.””
I stared at the envelope.
“What is this?””
Richard's eyes hardened.
“Proof.””
“Proof of what?””
He looked at Eric.
Then back at me.
“Proof that your husband didn't choose your house because he needed money.””
He paused.
“He chose it because he believed it was hiding something worth far more than three million dollars.””
My fingers closed around the envelope.
“What?””
May you like
Richard's answer was barely a whisper.
“Your father's real fortune.””
