Chapter 4 - My Aunt Had Kept One Secret Too Many
Margaret met me at a coffee shop in Kirkwood.
She looked ten years older than she had at the anniversary dinner.
“I should've told you sooner.”
“Told me what?”
“Rachel and Victoria were fighting before Rachel died.”
That wasn't entirely new.
My wife and mother had never been close.
But Margaret described something more serious.
Money.
Rachel had discovered irregular withdrawals from an account belonging to the Carter Foundation.
The foundation had been created by my father before his death and was supposed to fund scholarships and community grants.
Victoria managed most of its daily finances.
Rachel volunteered as treasurer.
Three weeks before her death, she'd questioned several payments categorized as “consulting expenses.”
Victoria told me afterward that Rachel had misunderstood ordinary bookkeeping.
I had believed her.
“What happened the night Rachel died?”
Margaret stared into her coffee.
“I wasn't there.”
“Then what do you know?”
“Victoria called me at 10:41.”
My mother's official account said she discovered Rachel after eleven.
“What did she say?”
Margaret's eyes filled.
“She said, ‘Rachel fell. I need you to tell me what to do.’”
My hands went cold.
“Before she called for help?”
Margaret nodded.
“How long before?”
“Seventeen minutes.”
Seventeen minutes.
My aunt reached across the table.
“There was something else.”
“What?”
“When I got there, Victoria had changed her blouse.”
“Why?”
“She said Rachel's blood got on it.”
That sounded possible.
Until Margaret added:
“But the blouse she took off wasn't bloody.”
“What was on it?”
Margaret swallowed.
“Red wine.”
And suddenly Sophia's words returned.
I saw Grandma wash it off.
May you like
Maybe my daughter hadn't seen my mother washing blood.
Maybe she'd seen her washing something that explained why Rachel fell.
