Chapter 7: The Week Between
Mason called four times on the 26th.
I let them all go to voicemail.
The first message was casual, almost friendly.
*Hey, just checking in.
Mom's pretty upset.
Give her a call when you can.*
The second was less friendly.
*Briar, this is getting ridiculous.
You made your point.
Come talk to them.*
The third was something else entirely.
*Look, I don't know what you think you found out, but Diane is not — she's not what you think she is.
She has her own reasons for doing this.
Don't trust her.
Call me back.*
I played that one twice.
Then I forwarded it to Patricia.
She called me within the hour.
"He knows you've been in contact with Diane," she said.
"That means your father knows too."
"How?"
"Could be a number of ways.
Does Diane have any connection to anyone your family still speaks to?"
I thought about it.
Gerald Fitch.
My father's former accountant.
"Possibly," I said.
"Fitch may have told someone he was talking."
"I spoke with Fitch this morning.
He's cooperative and he's scared.
He said your father called him on the 25th.
Didn't leave a message, but the call was made." A pause.
"They're starting to move."
"What does that mean for us?"
"It means we move faster.
I'm filing a formal complaint with the state financial crimes unit on the 28th.
I want everything documented before your father has a chance to restructure anything." Another pause.
"There's one more thing.
I found the witness on the insurance beneficiary change."
I sat down on the edge of Diane's couch.
"Who was it?"
"Mason," Patricia said.
"He signed as witness four years ago.
He was twenty-five."
The fourth voicemail from Mason was waiting on my phone.
I hadn't listened to it yet.
I ended the call with Patricia and pressed play.
Mason's voice was quieter than I had ever heard it.
*Briar.
I need to talk to you.
Not for them.
For me.
There's something I should have told you a long time ago.
Please call me back.*
I set the phone face-down on the coffee table.
Diane came in from the kitchen with two mugs and stopped when she saw my face.
"What happened?"
"Mason witnessed the insurance change."
She set the mugs down carefully.
"He was twenty-five," I said.
"He knew."
"Yes."
"He's been living in that house, rent-free, for four years, knowing what they took from me."
Diane sat down across from me.
She didn't try to soften it.
"Yes," she said again.
I picked up my coffee.
My hands were steady.
"Patricia files on the 28th," I said.
"I know."
"I want to be there."
"She said you could be."
Outside, the street was grey and cold.
Christmas was over.
The decorations on the neighbor's porch looked tired in the flat winter light.
My phone screen lit up.
Not Mason this time.
Dad.
I watched it ring.
Five times.
Six.
He didn't leave a message.
But a text came through thirty seconds later.
*We need to talk before you do something that destroys this family.
Meet me tomorrow.
May you like
Alone.
Don't bring her.*
