Chapter 9: What Teresa Knew
Grace called back in ninety minutes.
"I had someone make a few calls," she said.
"Teresa Vance contacted a family attorney in Evanston this morning.
Separately from Marcus.
She asked about the legal exposure for someone who had knowledge of a crjme but did not report it."
I sat down in the chair beside Mark's bed.
"She's scared."
"She's very scared.
And that makes her useful." Grace paused.
"I think she's genuine.
I think Marcus has been managing her for years and she's only now understanding the full picture." Another pause.
"I'd like to be present when you speak with her.
Can you arrange a meeting here at the hospital?"
"I'll ask her."
I texted Teresa.
Her reply came in four minutes.
*Yes.
I can be there in an hour.
Thank you, Claire.*
She arrived looking like she had aged ten years since the night before.
Her coat was buttoned wrong.
She'd fixed it by the time she reached the room, but I'd seen it.
Grace met her in the hallway.
I stood beside Grace.
Mark had asked to be there, and the attending had allowed him to sit up in the chair by the window.
Teresa walked in and saw Mark.
She stopped.
"Mark." Her voice broke on the single syllable.
"Mom." His voice was careful.
Not cold.
Not warm.
Careful.
She sat in the chair across from him.
Grace took a position near the door.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
"I didn't know he was going to do what he did," Teresa said.
She was looking at Mark.
"I want you to believe that."
"Tell me what you did know," Mark said.
She folded her hands in her lap.
"I knew about the will contest.
Your father told me he'd changed the will and Marcus found out.
He told me Marcus was angry.
I thought it was just — family conflict.
I thought it would pass." She looked down.
"When your father passed and the settlement happened, Marcus told me it was the right outcome.
That the original change had been made when your father wasn't himself." She paused.
"I believed him.
I wanted to believe him."
"And after that?" Mark said.
"He came to me about eight months ago.
He said the company was in trouble.
That there were cash flow problems and he needed to restructure.
He asked me to support the transfer of your shares if something happened to you." Her voice dropped.
"He said it was just contingency planning.
That you'd agreed to it in principle."
"I never agreed to anything."
"I know that now." She looked up.
"Last night, when Claire called 911 — when they brought the stretcher — Marcus came to me in the kitchen.
He told me to keep everyone calm.
He said Claire was having a breakdown and that the paramedics would sort it out and send everyone home." Her jaw tightened.
"He said, *Just let it go, Mom.
It's handled.*"
The room was quiet.
"Those were his exact words?" Grace said.
"Yes."
"Would you be willing to put that in a written statement?"
Teresa looked at Grace.
Then at Mark.
"Yes," she said.
"I'll put everything in a statement." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small notebook — the kind with a cloth cover.
"I wrote down what I remembered last night.
After the ambulance left.
I couldn't sleep." She held it out toward Grace.
"I don't know if it helps."
Grace took it.
She opened it and read the first page without expression.
"It helps," she said.
Teresa looked at Mark again.
Her eyes were wet.
"I'm sorry.
I know that's not enough."
Mark looked at her for a long moment.
"It's a start," he said.
It wasn't forgiveness.
But it wasn't a door closing either.
Teresa nodded.
She pressed her lips together and looked out the window.
Her hands were still folded in her lap, and they were shaking slightly, and she didn't try to hide it.
Grace caught my eye from across the room and gave a single small nod.
The notebook had three pages of notes.
On the last page, in Teresa's careful handwriting, was a name I didn't recognize.
I leaned toward Grace and pointed to it quietly.
"Who is Brennan?" I whispered.
Grace looked at the name.
Then she looked at Teresa.
"Mrs.
Vance," she said.
"Who is Brennan?"
Teresa's face changed.
"He works for Marcus.
May you like
Has for years." She paused.
"He's the one who drove Mark to the clinic."
