Chapter 13
My father, Thomas Bennett, had never mentioned Raymond Pike.
Not once.
Dad owned a small chain of hardware stores outside Chicago.
He worked too much.
Laughed loudly.
Loved old baseball.
He died from pancreatic cancer six months before Michael and I married.
He left Lauren and me money.
He left Mom the house.
And he left the lake property to me because I had spent every summer there with him while Lauren usually refused to go.
At least, that was what I believed.
“Where are you?” I asked Lauren.
She gave me the address of a busy grocery store.
“Stay there.”
Marissa drove me.
Rebecca told me to keep the meeting public and document everything Lauren provided.
When we arrived, Lauren was sitting in her car crying.
She handed me a folder.
“Raymond let you take this?”
“No.”
I stared.
“You stole it?”
“He showed it to me. I took pictures.”
She gave me her phone.
The first image was an old contract.
Pike Financial Services.
Thomas Bennett.
My father.
The document was dated seven years earlier.
Dad had apparently loaned Raymond two hundred thousand dollars.
“What is this?”
“Keep going.”
The next image showed repayment terms.
Then amendments.
Then a document signed by Richard Collins.
My father and Michael’s father had known each other.
I stared at Lauren.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Michael?”
“I don’t think so.”
I swiped again.
Another page.
It referenced the lake property.
My property.
Dad had used it as collateral for the loan to Raymond.
But beneath that was a release showing the lien had been satisfied before Dad died.
“So Raymond has no claim.”
“No,” Lauren said.
“Then why keep these?”
“Because of the next page.”
I swiped.
It was a handwritten letter from Dad to Richard.
Richard,
Raymond is becoming reckless. I want no further part in these loans. If anything happens to me before we close this out, make sure Sarah’s property is protected. Lauren has already asked me twice to divide it. I won’t. Sarah took care of that place with me. It belongs to her.
My throat closed.
Dad’s handwriting.
Dad’s words.
Lauren stared through the windshield.
“I didn’t know he wrote that.”
I looked at her.
“You asked him to give you half.”
She nodded.
“Twice?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was jealous.”
The bluntness startled me.
She began crying again.
“You and Dad had this thing I never had.”
“You refused to come with us.”
“I know.”
“Every summer, he asked you.”
“I know.”
“Then why punish me for going?”
“I was twenty-three and stupid.”
“You’re thirty-five now.”
She flinched.
“I know.”
I handed back the phone.
“What does Raymond want?”
“The original release.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
Lauren looked at me.
“He thinks you have it.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because Dad wrote another note saying he placed it with your inheritance documents.”
The safe.
My home safe.
Michael had access.
I pulled out my phone and called Rebecca.
She answered immediately.
“We need to secure the safe.”
“I agree.”
“My original property documents might prove Raymond has no claim.”
“Do not go alone.”
We arranged for a locksmith, Rebecca’s investigator, and a police standby because Michael was still living in the house.
When we arrived, Michael’s car was gone.
The locksmith opened the safe.
My folder was inside.
The deed.
Tax documents.
Dad’s will.
No release.
I searched again.
Nothing.
Rebecca’s investigator photographed everything.
Then I noticed an empty space at the back of the safe.
A folder was missing.
I knew because I had labeled every file when we moved.
“Michael took it.”
Rebecca held up a hand.
“We don’t know that yet.”
I checked the small paper inventory I kept inside the safe door.
LAKE PROPERTY — DEED, RELEASE, SURVEY.
Release.
It had been there.
Now it wasn’t.
I felt sick.
My phone rang.
Michael.
I answered.
“Where is the release?”
Silence.
Then, “You’re in the house.”
“Where is it?”
“What release?”
“The document clearing Dad’s lake property from Raymond Pike’s lien.”
A longer silence.
“Sarah, you need to stop listening to Lauren.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t have it.”
“Did you remove a folder from the safe?”
“No.”
“Did Diane?”
“No.”
“Raymond?”
“Of course not.”
I looked around the room.
“Then who?”
Michael’s voice softened.
“You’re turning everything into a conspiracy.”
“I have emails showing you asked if my copied signature would pass review.”
He stopped breathing.
I continued.
“I have Kevin’s texts.”
Nothing.
“I have your mother’s messages to Raymond.”
Silence.
“And I know you slept with Lauren.”
He inhaled sharply.
“So she told you.”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you she was sleeping with Raymond too?”
“Yes.”
“She’s manipulating both of us.”
“Maybe.”
I surprised him.
“But that doesn’t make your choices disappear.”
“Sarah—”
“Where is my document?”
“I swear I don’t have it.”
For some reason, I believed he believed that.
Not that he was innocent.
Only that he didn’t have the release.
I ended the call.
Then the investigator called us downstairs.
“Mrs. Collins?”
I found him near the back door.
“What?”
“Did you install a new exterior camera recently?”
“No.”
He pointed toward a tiny black device above the patio.
My skin crawled.
“That isn’t ours.”
He photographed it.
Then he checked the side entrance.
Another camera.
Someone had been watching the house.
Rebecca called police.
They documented the devices.
One officer asked if Michael might have installed them.
I didn’t know.
That answer frightened me.
When we left, I looked across the street.
A dark SUV sat at the curb.
The moment I noticed it, it pulled away.
I couldn’t see the driver.
That evening, Rebecca called.
“The cameras were wireless.”
“Can they tell who owned them?”
“Possibly.”
I waited.
“There’s something else.”
Of course.
“One of the officers reviewed nearby doorbell footage.”
My stomach tightened.
“Someone entered your home yesterday morning while Michael was out.”
“Who?”
“They used a key.”
“Who was it?”
May you like
Rebecca paused.
“Your mother-in-law.”
