Chapter 13 - The Night My Mother Died
I could hear my own pulse.
“Explain.”
Meredith’s voice sounded different now.
Less controlled.
“Margaret called me that night.”
“You were in contact?”
“Rarely.”
“What did she say?”
“That Richard had finally agreed to release the original partnership ledgers to her.”
“Why did he have them?”
“Because he had taken custody during the Northstar split.”
“And hidden them?”
“Yes.”
“From Conrad?”
“And from Margaret.”
My anger grew.
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Richard collected leverage.
That fit everything I had seen.
“He arranged to meet her privately.”
“Where?”
“His office.”
“What happened?”
“She never reached it.”
“But you said she died in his car.”
“Yes.”
Meredith took a breath.
“Richard picked her up because she didn’t want Northstar security knowing where she was going.”
“Why not?”
“She believed Conrad had someone inside the company.”
Possibly true.
Possibly paranoia.
Given everything happening now, I no longer dismissed either.
“Richard later told me Margaret suffered chest pain in the car.”
“She had a heart condition.”
“Mild arrhythmia. Controlled.”
“Could stress have triggered something?”
“Yes.”
“Did he call 911?”
A pause.
“No.”
My stomach turned.
“What did he do?”
“He drove.”
“For how long?”
“Twenty-three minutes.”
“Why?”
“He said Margaret begged him not to call anyone.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No.”
Neither did I.
“Where did he take her?”
“A private clinic.”
“What clinic?”
“It closed years ago.”
“Doctor?”
“Dead.”
Convenient.
Too convenient.
“How do you know she died in the car?”
“Because Richard called me afterward.”
“You have proof?”
“I recorded him.”
My breathing changed.
“Where is it?”
“In the evidence trust.”
Of course.
Everything important was in a vault Richard controlled.
“What did he say?”
Meredith’s voice broke slightly.
“He said, ‘Margaret stopped breathing before we arrived.’”
I closed my eyes.
For nine years, I believed my mother died suddenly at home.
I had been traveling.
The housekeeper told me she found her.
Richard handled the arrangements.
He told me grief made details unnecessary.
Now I understood how much information he had controlled.
“Did the housekeeper lie?”
“She was paid.”
My stomach turned.
“By whom?”
“Richard.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Elaine touched my arm.
I steadied myself.
I would grieve later.
I needed facts now.
“Why would Richard help hide where she died?”
“Because the ledgers were in his car.”
“The evidence trust.”
“Yes.”
“He kept them.”
“Yes.”
“Why not destroy them?”
Meredith laughed bitterly.
“Because Richard never destroys leverage.”
That was the first thing about him I fully believed.
My phone buzzed.
Another message from Richard.
ONE HOUR.
BRING THE LEDGER OR NAOMI LEAVES MY CONTROL.
Threat without saying threat.
Careful lawyer language.
I called him.
No answer.
I left voicemail.
“Richard, if Naomi is harmed, every file I have goes to regulators, the board, and three newsrooms.”
I was bluffing about regulators.
Not about the board.
And I had enough records to make his life difficult.
Then I sent a photo of the Project Widow documents.
He called immediately.
“You do not understand what you’re holding.”
“That phrase is getting boring.”
“Audrey.”
“Is Naomi alive?”
“Yes.”
“Put her on.”
“I can’t.”
“Then I assume she isn’t.”
“She is.”
“Prove it.”
A pause.
Then Naomi’s voice came faintly through.
“Ms. Vance?”
“Naomi.”
“I’m okay.”
“Are you free to leave?”
Silence.
“Naomi?”
Richard returned.
“She is safe.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“You need to listen.”
“No. You do.”
I looked at Elaine.
Then Franklin.
“We’re not coming to Boston.”
Richard exhaled.
“Then you lose the archive.”
“Wrong.”
I had been thinking like someone protecting evidence.
Richard expected that.
So I changed the objective.
“If you destroy my mother’s trust, Conrad loses the one thing you can use against him.”
Silence.
I had guessed.
Richard’s leverage only mattered if it existed.
“You don’t want it destroyed,” I continued. “You want control over who sees it.”
Still nothing.
“And Naomi copied something you need.”
Richard’s breathing changed.
There.
Another correct guess.
“What did she copy?”
“Audrey—”
“What did Naomi take from Project Widow?”
He said nothing.
I turned toward Franklin.
“Search her archive for anything about the evidence trust.”
He did.
Two minutes.
Three.
Then he found a scan.
A recent access log from Langford Archive Services.
The evidence trust had been opened.
Six weeks earlier.
Before the acquisition closed.
Authorized by trustee:
RICHARD SLOANE.
Contents removed temporarily:
BOX 4—MORROW LEDGERS.
BOX 7—MARGARET VANCE AUDIO.
BOX 9—FAMILY CORRESPONDENCE.
Returned:
BOX 4.
BOX 7.
BOX 9 was still out.
Family correspondence.
Richard had taken my mother’s letters and never returned them.
Why?
Franklin opened a linked image Naomi had saved.
One envelope.
My name handwritten across the front.
AUDREY—ONLY IF MEREDITH RETURNS.
My mother had written me a letter about her sister.
Richard had hidden it.
Then the office door behind us opened.
Malcolm walked in holding his phone.
His face was gray.
“Someone just called an emergency board meeting.”
“When?”
“Eight tomorrow morning.”
“Who?”
“Julian.”
“He doesn’t have authority.”
“He filed the marital control agreement.”
My jaw tightened.
“And the forged Northstar transfer?”
“Yes.”
“To Conrad?”
“Yes.”
Malcolm swallowed.
“They’re asking the board to recognize Julian as temporary representative of your shares pending a conflict review.”
Project Widow was accelerating.
Then Franklin’s laptop chimed.
A new file arrived from Naomi’s hidden archive.
No message.
Only a scan of a handwritten letter.
FROM MARGARET VANCE TO MEREDITH COLE.
The first line read:
IF AUDREY EVER MARRIES JULIAN VANCE, WE FAILED.
My breath stopped.
May you like
The letter was dated seven years before I met him.
📖 Discover how my mother knew Julian’s name seven years before our introduction—and why the letter proved Project Widow began long before anyone admitted in CHAPTER 14. 👇
