Chapter 5
The call ended.
Nobody spoke.
Daniel stared at his phone as though it might explain what we had just heard.
My mind refused to catch up.
Daniel’s father, Thomas Walker, had supposedly died when Daniel was fourteen.
I had seen photographs.
I had visited the grave.
Every year on Thomas’s birthday, Linda placed flowers there.
Daniel spoke first.
“My father died in a car accident.”
Detective Alvarez looked at him.
“You saw him after the accident?”
Daniel went still.
“I was fourteen.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
“Did you attend the funeral?”
“Yes.”
“Open casket?”
Daniel shook his head slowly.
“No.”
I felt cold.
“You never saw him?”
“My mother said the injuries were too severe.”
Alvarez wrote something down.
“Did you see a death certificate?”
“I was fourteen.”
“What about later?”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“Daniel, you’ve never seen your father’s death certificate?”
“Why would I?”
Until that moment, there had never been a reason.
Now there was.
Alvarez contacted another officer.
Within twenty minutes, someone began checking official records.
While we waited, Daniel sat with his elbows on his knees.
“My mother wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
I didn’t answer.
He looked up.
“You think she would?”
“Today?”
My voice was quiet.
“I don’t know what she wouldn’t lie about.”
He looked away.
An officer returned.
There was no death certificate for Thomas Walker matching the date Linda had given.
Daniel stood.
“That can’t be right.”
“We checked state records.”
“He died in Wisconsin.”
“We checked Wisconsin.”
“Then it’s under a different spelling.”
“Possibly.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
Detective Alvarez asked, “Do you know his Social Security number?”
“No.”
“Date of birth?”
Daniel gave it.
They searched again.
Ten minutes later, Alvarez returned.
“There’s a Thomas Edward Walker with that birth date.”
Daniel stared.
“And?”
“He’s alive.”
I felt my breath catch.
“Where?”
Alvarez hesitated.
“Colorado.”
Daniel looked like someone had struck him.
“He’s alive.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“We need full verification, but the identifying information matches.”
Daniel turned toward the wall.
His hands went to his head.
For fourteen years, he had believed his father died.
For another twenty-three years, he had lived with that belief.
Thirty-seven years old.
And in one morning, his entire childhood had cracked open.
I almost touched him.
Almost.
Then I stopped.
This pain was his.
It didn’t erase mine.
But I could still feel sorry for him.
Detective Alvarez said, “We need to be careful. There may be explanations.”
Daniel laughed bitterly.
“Like what?”
“Estrangement. Identity issues. Legal separation.”
“My mother told everyone he was dead.”
“That requires investigation.”
Daniel suddenly looked at me.
“Do you remember the cemetery?”
“Yes.”
“What did the headstone say?”
I pictured it.
Thomas Edward Walker.
Beloved husband and father.
1958–2003.
My stomach dropped.
“He has a grave.”
Alvarez frowned.
“That’s significant.”
We drove to the cemetery that afternoon.
An officer met us there.
I hadn’t wanted to go.
But Daniel asked.
Not as my husband.
As someone terrified of discovering his childhood was built on a lie.
Megan picked Sophie up from school.
Daniel and I stood before Thomas Walker’s headstone.
He touched the engraved letters.
“I came here every year.”
I said nothing.
“My mother cried here.”
His voice cracked.
“She brought flowers.”
He turned toward me.
“She made me talk to him.”
I saw tears on his face.
“When I got married, I came here.”
I remembered.
The morning of our wedding.
Daniel disappeared for an hour.
He later told me he had gone to tell his father he wished he could be there.
Now he crouched before an empty grave.
At least we assumed it was empty.
The cemetery manager joined us.
She checked old records.
“No burial.”
Daniel looked up.
“What?”
“There is a plot registered to Linda Walker.”
“Was anyone buried here?”
“No.”
The manager looked uncomfortable.
“The monument was installed privately.”
Daniel stepped back.
“That’s allowed?”
“If the plot owner purchases a memorial marker, yes.”
He stared at the stone.
“So there’s nobody under this.”
“Correct.”
Daniel laughed.
Then covered his mouth.
The sound turned into a sob.
I looked away.
There are moments when anger has to make room for grief.
Not forgiveness.
Just grief.
I crouched beside him.
He grabbed my hand.
I let him.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, “Everything she told me.”
“We don’t know that.”
“She killed my father without killing him.”
I squeezed his hand once.
“What happened between them?”
“I don’t know.”
That was becoming the theme of our lives.
We returned to the police station.
Alvarez had more information.
Thomas Walker lived outside Colorado Springs.
He had remarried.
He owned a small woodworking business.
And he had apparently tried contacting Daniel.
Repeatedly.
I stared at Alvarez.
“When?”
“Over the years.”
Daniel looked stunned.
“How?”
“Letters.”
“I never got letters.”
“Your mother may have intercepted them.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“How do you know he sent them?”
“Mr. Walker kept copies.”
“You talked to him?”
“We contacted local authorities who confirmed his identity. He agreed to speak with us.”
Daniel’s voice became small.
“Does he know I’m here?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Alvarez’s expression softened.
“He asked if you were okay.”
Daniel turned away.
I saw his shoulders shake.
Then he asked the question I knew was coming.
“Can I talk to him?”
Alvarez nodded.
“Soon.”
Not yet.
There were legal and investigative steps.
Daniel accepted that reluctantly.
Then Paul, the accountant, arrived.
He carried files.
A lot of them.
“The ninety thousand in Sophie’s account is only part of it.”
My stomach sank.
“How much?”
“Over three hundred forty thousand dollars has moved through questionable vendors.”
Daniel sat.
“That’s more than the company made last year.”
“I know.”
Paul placed another folder down.
“There’s also a loan.”
Daniel frowned.
“What loan?”
“Against the commercial property.”
“I didn’t take a loan.”
“It bears your electronic signature.”
“How much?”
“One hundred eighty thousand.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
I whispered, “Where did the money go?”
Paul looked at us.
“Most of it moved through the same vendor network.”
“Eric?”
“Probably.”
“And Linda?”
Paul hesitated.
“There are transfers to an account held by L.W. Family Holdings.”
Daniel’s face turned white.
“That’s hers.”
I leaned back.
The scale was becoming impossible to absorb.
Linda had manipulated her son’s marriage.
Used her granddaughter’s identity.
Stolen from the company.
And somehow hidden Daniel’s living father for twenty-three years.
Why?
Money alone didn’t explain all of it.
Control did.
Later, while Daniel gave a formal statement, I went to Megan’s apartment.
Sophie ran into my arms.
“Mommy!”
I hugged her tightly.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
She pulled back.
“Did Daddy fix everything?”
My chest tightened.
“No.”
Children believed adults could fix things because adults usually pretended they could.
“He’s trying.”
“Is Grandma coming back?”
“No.”
She looked relieved.
Then she whispered, “Good.”
That one word destroyed any doubt I had about keeping Linda away.
I sat with Sophie on the sofa.
“Sweetheart, I need to ask you something.”
She became nervous.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Did Grandma ever ask you questions about money?”
Sophie frowned.
“Money?”
“Bank accounts. Daddy’s work. Mommy’s work.”
She thought.
“She asked where Daddy keeps papers.”
My heart jumped.
“When?”
“A lot.”
“What did you say?”
“I said his office.”
“Did she ask about anything else?”
“She wanted my school number.”
“What number?”
“My student number.”
I stared.
“Did you give it to her?”
“She said Daddy needed it.”
My stomach tightened.
“That’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Sophie suddenly looked frightened.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
She glanced toward the hallway.
“Grandma made me sign papers.”
My entire body froze.
“What papers?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“At her house.”
“When were you at her house?”
“Last Saturday.”
I stared at her.
Last Saturday, Daniel had taken Sophie to the park.
At least that was what he told me.
“Daddy took you?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“Grandma.”
“How?”
“Daddy dropped me at Grandma’s because he had a work call.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“What did you sign?”
“She said we were practicing my signature.”
My heart hammered.
“What did the papers look like?”
“White.”
I almost laughed at myself.
Of course they were white.
“Were there words?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember any?”
Sophie squeezed her eyes closed.
Then nodded.
“My name.”
“What else?”
“A bank.”
I called Daniel immediately.
He answered.
“What happened?”
“Sophie signed documents for Linda.”
Silence.
“What?”
“At Linda’s house last Saturday.”
“I was gone forty minutes.”
“What did Linda say you were doing?”
“She was giving Sophie lunch.”
“She was giving her documents.”
Daniel swore under his breath.
“What kind?”
“Sophie remembers a bank name.”
“Which?”
I asked Sophie.
She whispered, “Lakeview.”
Daniel heard.
“Lakeview Community Bank.”
I looked at him through the phone as if I could see him.
“Do you know it?”
“My mother banks there.”
I called Detective Alvarez.
Within an hour, police had contacted the bank.
They couldn’t give me details immediately.
But they confirmed an account existed under Sophie’s Social Security number.
I wanted to scream.
Instead I held my daughter while she watched television.
At eight that night, Daniel arrived at Megan’s apartment.
I almost told him to leave.
Then I saw his face.
“What?”
He held out his phone.
“My father called.”
I stared at him.
“Thomas?”
Daniel nodded.
“He left a voicemail.”
“Did you listen?”
“Three times.”
“What did he say?”
Daniel pressed play.
An older man’s voice filled the room.
“Daniel, I don’t know if you’ll listen to this. I’ve waited a very long time. I never stopped trying to find you. Whatever your mother told you about me, I want you to hear my side before you decide what you believe. I have letters. Court papers. Everything. And Daniel… there’s something you need to know about Linda. Something I should have told you years ago.”
The message ended.
Daniel stared at me.
“What do you think?”
“I think you should call him.”
He nodded.
Then his phone rang.
Same Colorado number.
Daniel answered.
“Hello?”
A long silence.
Then his face changed.
“Dad?”
I looked away.
It felt too private.
Thomas spoke for nearly five minutes before Daniel said anything else.
Then Daniel whispered, “Why did you leave?”
Another long silence.
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“No.”
He stood.
“No, that isn’t possible.”
I watched him.
“What?”
He looked at me.
His face had gone white again.
Thomas was still speaking.
Daniel lowered the phone.
“What did he say?” I asked.
Daniel swallowed.
“He didn’t leave us.”
“Then what happened?”
He looked toward Sophie.
Then back at me.
“My mother got a restraining order against him.”
“For what?”
Daniel’s voice cracked.
“She told the court he was dangerous.”
May you like
I waited.
Daniel whispered, “And he says she used me to prove it.”
