Chapter 7 - The Boyfriend Who Had Been Paid to Love Me
I met Preston Reed when I was twenty-four.
He walked into the diner where I worked carrying a broken umbrella and an enormous smile.
He ordered coffee.
Complained about the rain.
And left a fifty-dollar tip.
I thought he was charming.
A week later, he returned.
Then again.
Eventually, he asked me to dinner.
I had no idea that eleven years earlier, he'd stood beside Victor Calder at Harbor House.
I had no idea he'd known my mother's name before he ever asked for mine.
Now I stared at the photograph.
My hands felt numb.
"Gabriel."
He examined it.
His expression hardened.
"Where did you find this?"
Leah pointed toward the filing cabinet.
Gabriel studied Preston's younger face.
"I didn't know he was involved that early."
I turned toward him.
"Why would a seventeen-year-old boy be meeting your father?"
Gabriel looked at the photograph.
"His family worked for Calder."
My stomach tightened.
"What family?"
"His uncle was Calder's accountant."
I closed my eyes.
The room seemed to narrow.
Preston had told me his parents were dead.
That he'd grown up with distant relatives.
That he understood loneliness.
Had any of it been true?
I looked at Gabriel.
"I need answers."
He nodded.
"So do I."
Miriam arranged for the photograph to be preserved and examined alongside the financial records.
The next day, she uncovered something.
Preston had received payments from a consulting company connected to Calder.
Several payments began around the time he started dating me.
They continued until shortly before he emptied our savings account.
The purpose listed on the invoices was vague.
Client outreach.
Document retrieval.
Administrative support.
I stared at the records.
"He was paid?"
Miriam spoke carefully.
"The payments establish a financial relationship. We still need evidence of what he was hired to do."
But I knew.
I remembered Preston asking about my mother's belongings.
The way he offered to help me organize her paperwork.
The apartment lease he'd insisted on completing himself.
The bank account he'd persuaded me to open jointly.
Every memory became suspicious.
I hated that.
I hated how betrayal could reach backward and poison things that had once made you happy.
That evening, Preston called.
I almost ignored him.
Then I remembered something Gabriel had told me.
Preston responded to power.
Perhaps it was time he learned I had some of my own.
I answered.
"Hello, Preston."
He sounded surprised.
"Alice."
"What do you want?"
"We need to talk."
"Then talk."
A pause.
"Not over the phone."
I looked toward Leah.
She shook her head.
I agreed.
"No."
Preston sighed.
"You're making things worse."
I laughed.
"For whom?"
His voice hardened.
"You don't understand what you're involved in."
"Then explain it."
Silence.
I continued.
"Did Calder pay you to date me?"
A sharp breath.
Then:
"Where did you hear that?"
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Not confusion.
Not outrage.
Recognition.
"Answer me."
He lowered his voice.
"Alice, I didn't know what they wanted at first."
I stared at the wall.
"What did they want?"
"Your mother's documents."
My stomach dropped.
He continued quickly.
"They told me she had stolen company records. That she was trying to extort money."
"And you believed them?"
"I was nineteen when Calder first approached me. I owed money. My uncle worked for him."
I gripped the phone.
"You met me five years later."
"I know."
"You spent two years with me."
"Alice—"
"You told me you loved me."
His breathing changed.
"I did."
I felt tears burn.
"Then why did you steal our savings?"
He was silent.
I waited.
Finally, he whispered:
"Because Calder said he'd kill me if I didn't."
I closed my eyes.
There were a thousand things I wanted to say.
But I remembered my mother's letter.
Don't become cruel to defeat cruel people.
So I asked one question.
"Did you know my mother was dying?"
Preston didn't answer.
"Did you?"
"Yes."
My heart broke all over again.
"You watched me sell her wedding ring."
"I'm sorry."
"You let me work double shifts to pay for her funeral."
"Alice, please."
I looked down.
"Was anything real?"
A long silence.
Then he said something I hadn't expected.
"Yes."
I waited.
"That's why I left."
I almost laughed.
"You left because you loved me?"
"No."
His voice cracked.
"I left because they told me to get you to sign the transfer documents, and I couldn't do it."
I froze.
"What?"
"Calder gave me everything. The papers. The instructions. He said once you signed, I could walk away with enough money to start over."
I stared at the phone.
"So you stole our savings instead?"
"I thought if I gave Calder the money, he'd leave us alone."
I didn't believe him.
Not completely.
Perhaps he had loved me.
Perhaps he'd loved the money more.
Perhaps both things were true.
But none of it changed what he'd done.
"Preston, tell the police."
He made a desperate sound.
"You don't understand."
"Then make them understand."
The line went dead.
I immediately told Miriam about the call.
She asked me to write down everything I remembered.
I did.
Every word.
Every pause.
Every admission.
The following morning, Preston was supposed to meet with his attorney.
He never arrived.
His apartment was empty.
His phone was disconnected.
His car was found near the Brooklyn waterfront.
And inside it, investigators discovered something that changed the entire case.
A folder containing copies of the forged ownership documents.
May you like
And a handwritten note.
ALICE HAYES WAS NEVER THE TARGET. HER MOTHER WAS.
