Chapter 14 - THE THREAT AT OUR WINDOW
Frederick was upstairs when the brick came through.
That was the only reason I remained rational.
Glass covered the living-room floor.
Amy stood frozen near the staircase.
I moved her away from the window.
Then I called police.
Security cameras had captured the vehicle.
A dark SUV.
The plate was stolen.
But the driver made one mistake.
He stepped into view.
Mason.
My cousin.
The same man who had tried to escape with the folder.
Police arrested him before sunrise.
This time he stopped protecting Teresa.
Mason was facing fraud charges.
Witness intimidation.
Conspiracy.
And now a threat against a family with a child inside the home.
His lawyer requested another meeting with prosecutors.
By afternoon, Mason was talking.
He described Teresa’s operation in detail.
She identified relatives with equity.
Savings.
Good credit.
Weak marriages.
Sick spouses.
Anyone vulnerable.
Then she created dependence.
Sometimes she gave money.
Sometimes she offered childcare.
Sometimes she handled bills.
Once she had access, she collected documents.
Patrick Sloan prepared financing.
Melissa Sloan handled properties.
Betsy recruited family members.
Mason transported paperwork and cash.
“What was supposed to happen to Amy?”
I asked Hall.
He hesitated.
“Tell me.”
“Mason says your mother planned to provoke a confrontation.”
“What kind?”
“At the birthday party.”
Amy stared at him.
“Why?”
“She wanted witnesses.”
I understood before he finished.
If Amy yelled.
If she pushed someone.
If she grabbed Frederick and tried to leave.
Teresa would call police.
Twenty relatives would say Amy lost control.
Then the emergency custody documents would appear.
My mother had turned my son’s birthday into a trap.
“She kept telling me I was lazy.”
Amy whispered.
“She wanted me angry.”
Hall nodded.
“She wanted you exhausted first.”
The dishes.
The sick baby.
The serving.
The humiliation.
Everything had been deliberate.
My hands shook with rage.
“But I came through the back door.”
“Yes.”
I remembered the cake.
The pendant.
The blue dress.
I had thought I was surprising Amy.
Instead, I had destroyed my mother’s timetable.
Hall turned toward me.
“There’s something else.”
Mason had revealed the purpose of the $620,000 figure.
It was not merely an inventory.
It was a target.
Teresa intended to gain control of enough family assets to borrow against them collectively through shell companies.
My home was supposed to become the largest piece.
“And my father?”
I asked.
Hall grew quiet.
“Mason says Teresa once told him your father tried to stop the same scheme.”
“Did she say what happened?”
“No.”
“But he remembers something else.”
“What?”
“Your father kept a copy of everything somewhere Teresa could never find.”
I thought of his note.
I found where she keeps everything.
Maybe my father had discovered Teresa’s archive.
But perhaps he had created one of his own.
“Where?”
“Mason doesn’t know.”
Then Amy spoke.
“What about Connor’s old toolbox?”
I turned.
“What?”
“Your father gave you that red toolbox.”
“Yes.”
May you like
“You said you never use it because the bottom drawer is jammed.”
I stopped breathing.
