Chapter 13 - My Mother’s Name
My mother’s name was Catherine Bennett.
She died in a car accident thirteen years earlier.
The report said her vehicle lost control on a wet road outside Boston.
My father never remarried.
He kept her photograph in his office.
Every year on her birthday, he placed white roses beside it.
Now Special Agent Kane said her name appeared in a ledger controlled by Eleanor Cross.
My father’s face went still.
“What payment?”
The agent spoke carefully.
“A transfer from the Cross charitable foundation to a private investigator four days before Catherine Bennett’s accident.”
My father gripped the edge of the signing table.
“Why?”
“We do not know.”
Eleanor looked toward the officers.
My father saw.
He stepped closer.
“You knew Catherine?”
Eleanor said nothing.
Vivian answered.
“I did.”
We turned toward her.
She looked exhausted.
“Catherine worked with me.”
My father stared.
“She never mentioned you.”
“She could not.”
Vivian explained that Catherine had been a financial attorney before marrying my father.
Years earlier, she reviewed charitable accounts connected to the Cross foundation.
She discovered irregular transfers.
Some involved Eleanor.
Others involved Daniel’s father.
Catherine warned Vivian that money was being moved through medical charities and private clinics.
The same clinics later used to control Claire.
Catherine intended to report the activity.
Then she died.
My father’s face lost all color.
“You knew this?”
“I suspected after Lake Briar,” Vivian said. “I had no proof.”
“You had thirteen years.”
“I had no identity, no access, no one who believed me.”
My father turned away.
The pain in his face was unbearable.
For years, he had blamed weather.
Road conditions.
Chance.
Now the accident belonged to a pattern.
That did not prove Eleanor caused it.
But it proved Catherine had been watched.
Eleanor finally spoke.
“Catherine was careless.”
My father turned back.
The room went cold.
“What did you say?”
“She believed truth protected people.”
My father stepped forward.
The officers tightened their hold on Eleanor.
“She endangered everyone.”
“Did you kill my wife?”
Eleanor smiled faintly.
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
My father’s hands clenched.
I moved beside him.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
The fury in his eyes frightened me.
Not because I thought he would hurt me.
Because I knew Daniel had already tried to make my father violent.
Eleanor wanted the same thing.
She wanted him to lose control in front of witnesses.
I took his hand.
“Not here.”
He breathed once.
Then again.
His fingers slowly opened.
Eleanor’s smile disappeared.
I looked at her.
“You wanted him to hit you.”
“You think everything is strategy.”
“I learned from you.”
Vivian watched me with a strange sadness.
The agent continued.
The private investigator paid before my mother’s death was still alive.
He had been located earlier that day.
He claimed Eleanor hired him to follow Catherine, not harm her.
But he also admitted someone else paid him after the crash to destroy photographs.
“Who?” my father asked.
The agent did not answer immediately.
Arthur did.
“Me.”
Every head turned.
Arthur remained near the chair, trembling.
My father stared at him.
“You destroyed evidence from my wife’s accident?”
Arthur nodded.
“Eleanor told me the photographs would create a scandal.”
“What photographs?”
“A second car.”
My chest tightened.
Arthur explained that the investigator photographed a black sedan following my mother’s vehicle.
After the crash, the sedan disappeared.
The investigator captured part of the license plate.
Arthur burned the images.
Or believed he did.
The investigator kept one copy as insurance.
The surviving photograph had been recovered.
The license plate belonged to a vehicle registered to Bennett Holdings.
My father looked stunned.
“That is impossible.”
Lauren stepped forward.
“Not impossible.”
She opened a tablet.
“The vehicle was assigned to a senior Bennett executive.”
My father’s face hardened.
“Who?”
Lauren looked at me.
Then at him.
“Your brother.”
My uncle Henry.
The man who had served as my father’s closest adviser since my mother died.
The man who encouraged the marriage to Daniel.
The man who was absent from the ballroom because he claimed to be ill.
My father whispered, “Henry knew Catherine was investigating the Cross accounts.”
Vivian nodded.
“He was involved.”
The betrayal moved beyond Daniel’s family.
My own family had helped bury the truth.
Then my father’s phone rang.
Henry’s name appeared on the screen.
We all stared.
My father answered on speaker.
Henry’s voice sounded calm.
“Charles, I heard there was trouble at the wedding.”
My father said nothing.
Henry continued.
“Bring Emily to the west terrace. Alone.”
I looked toward the ballroom windows.
Beyond them, the country club grounds disappeared into darkness.
My father’s voice became cold.
“Why?”
“Because Catherine left something for her daughter.”
A pause.
May you like
“And if Emily wants it, she has five minutes.”
📖 What had Emily’s mother left behind—and why did Uncle Henry demand she come alone?
