Chapter 7 - Everybody Owed MargotDiane's secret was not dramatic.
That almost made it worse.
Eight years earlier, her husband had lost his job.
Their mortgage was three months behind.
Diane borrowed forty thousand dollars from Margot without telling anyone.
Margot helped.
Then kept the evidence.
Every check.
Every email.
Every desperate message.
“When Daniel died,” Diane said, “Margot reminded me who had saved my house.”
Caleb stared at her.
“She blackmailed you over a loan?”
“She never called it blackmail.”
“Of course not.”
“She said families protect each other.”
Caleb laughed bitterly.
“That phrase again.”
Diane wiped her eyes.
“I was ashamed.”
“So you let me believe Dad and Mom were happy.”
“I told myself it didn't matter anymore.”
“It mattered to him.”
“I know.”
Caleb looked at the photograph again.
“Why is Martin in this?”
“Daniel suspected Martin was helping her move money.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Diane hesitated.
“He said Martin created companies.”
“North Shore Interiors?”
“I don't know the names.”
Caleb showed her a screenshot.
Diane stared at it.
“I've seen that.”
“Where?”
“Margot's desk.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
The conspiracy suddenly grew older than Caleb had imagined.
Back at the lake house, Naomi and Rebecca were joined by forensic accountant Evan Brooks.
Within three hours, Evan had traced North Shore Interiors through a chain of registrations.
The owner was not Margot.
Not Martin.
It belonged to a management company.
That company belonged to another LLC.
The final beneficiary was a trust controlled by Martin Keene's adult son.
Erin stared at the diagram.
“So Martin's family got the money.”
Evan nodded.
“Some of it.”
“Where did the rest go?”
“We're tracing it.”
Caleb asked the question that mattered.
“Did my mother receive any?”
“Likely.”
“How much?”
“I'll know more tomorrow.”
That evening, Margot sent Caleb a text despite instructions from his attorney to keep communication limited.
YOU ARE HUMILIATING YOUR FATHER'S NAME.
Caleb stared at it.
Another followed.
ERIN WILL TAKE THIS HOUSE FROM YOU.
Then:
SHE ALREADY TOOK YOU FROM ME.
Caleb showed Erin.
Erin read the messages without reacting.
Finally she asked, “Do you know what scares me most?”
“What?”
“She still thinks this is about possession.”
Caleb looked at her.
“Dad belonged to her.”
“You belonged to her.”
Erin touched Sadie's blanket.
“And now Sadie belongs to you, so Margot thinks she lost.”
Caleb felt nauseated because it made sense.
The next morning, Evan called.
“I found the flow.”
Caleb put him on speaker.
“Tell me.”
“North Shore Interiors received approximately six hundred and twelve thousand dollars from trust or company-related accounts over six years.”
Erin inhaled sharply.
“Six hundred thousand?”
“About two hundred thousand then moved to accounts associated with Martin's family.”
“And the rest?”
Evan paused.
“Your mother.”
Caleb closed his eyes.
“How much?”
“Approximately three hundred and seventy-eight thousand dollars.”
“What did she spend it on?”
“Some went toward legitimate household expenses. Some went toward investment losses.”
“What kind of losses?”
“High-risk private investments. Several failed.”
Caleb remembered Margot calling Daniel reckless with money.
All projection.
Evan continued.
“But there's another issue.”
“What?”
“The lake house renovation.”
Caleb looked around.
“What about it?”
“You believed it cost approximately four hundred thousand dollars?”
“Four-twenty.”
“According to documents submitted against the trust, it cost seven hundred and eighty-six thousand.”
Erin stood.
“What?”
“Three hundred thousand in invoices appear inflated or unsupported.”
Caleb stared at the stone countertops.
The custom staircase.
The upstairs bathroom.
The same renovation Margot had supervised.
“North Shore?”
“Primarily.”
The house itself had been used to steal from him.
Then Evan said:
“There's one payment I can't explain.”
“How much?”
“One hundred fifty thousand dollars, transferred three days after Sadie was born.”
Caleb's blood went cold.
“Where?”
“A newly created account.”
“Whose?”
“We're still identifying the beneficiary.”
“Why would Margot move that much after Sadie was born?”
“Maybe she knew the trust conversion was coming.”
Caleb thought of the certified letters.
Five weeks ago.
But Sadie was eight weeks old.
Margot had moved the money before receiving formal notice.
“How did she know?”
Nobody answered.
There was only one obvious possibility.
Someone had warned her.
Caleb looked at Martin Keene's name on the chart.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
Margot and Martin sitting together in a restaurant two months before Sadie's birth.
May you like
Beneath it:
YOUR FATHER WASN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW.
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