Chapter 14 - MICHAEL’S BROTHER
Only one living person spoke about Natalie that way.
My late husband’s brother, Calvin Hayes, had disappeared from our lives after Michael’s funeral.
He blamed the company, the investigators, and eventually me.
Calvin had resurfaced briefly seven years earlier.
That was the same year as the fabricated psychiatric evaluation.
Miriam found him registered as a consultant to Adrien’s accounting firm.
The old grief I had buried became something colder.
Calvin knew Michael’s records.
He knew my routines.
He knew which memories would destabilize me in court.
He also knew Natalie’s childhood need for her father.
Police traced Adrien’s rental car to a lakeside property owned by Calvin.
They found the house empty.
In the fireplace were partly burned copies of my estate plan.
In the garage was Sarah’s phone.
On a workbench were blank notary seals, hospital badges, and photographs of me entering the bank.
The safe recordings were still missing.
Calvin called me that night.
His voice had aged into Michael’s.
For one second, I could not breathe.
“You took everything after he died,” Calvin said.
“The house, the settlement, the child.”
“Natalie was my daughter.”
“She was a Hayes.”
He believed Michael’s settlement belonged to the Hayes family.
He had spent three decades watching my house increase in value and calling it stolen property.
Adrien had promised him a share after the sale.
“Where is Adrien?” I asked.
Calvin laughed.
“Closer than you think.”
The line went dead.
At that moment, my home alarm announced movement in the detached garage.
The police officer beside me drew his weapon.
We watched the security screen.
A figure moved beneath the garage light.
It was Natalie.
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She had been released on bail by an anonymous payer.
She was carrying a red gasoline can.
