Chapter 6: What Betsy Knew
I stood in the kitchen and listened to the message twice.
Betsy's voice was shaking.
She said she needed to talk to me.
She said she was sorry.
She said there were things she hadn't told me — things she should have said a long time ago — and that she understood if I didn't want to speak to her.
She left her number and hung up.
Amy was in the bedroom settling Frederick down for his nap.
I could hear her through the wall, the soft repetitive sound of her voice reading to him, the same two pages of the same board book they had been working through for weeks.
I called Betsy back.
She picked up before the second ring.
"Connor." Her voice was thick.
"Thank you for calling."
"You were there last night," I said.
"You laughed when they said Amy was in the kitchen."
A long silence.
"I know," she said.
"I'm not going to make excuses for that."
"Then tell me what you called to tell me."
She took a breath.
"I've known about Teresa's plan for four months," she said.
"She came to me in the spring.
She told me Connor was overwhelmed with the new baby and the mortgage and that she was trying to help him restructure things.
She made it sound like you had asked her to.
She said she just needed a few people in the family to support her if questions came up."
"And you agreed."
"She told me it was to protect you." Betsy's voice broke slightly.
"I know how that sounds.
I know.
But Teresa has always been — she has a way of framing things so that you feel like you're helping.
Like you're on the right side."
"What exactly did you agree to?"
"She asked me to keep Amy occupied at the party.
To make sure she stayed in the kitchen and didn't come outside where the documents were going to be signed." A pause.
"I didn't know about the forgery.
I didn't know about the bank account.
She told me it was a family financial arrangement.
That you knew."
"I didn't know."
"I understand that now."
I sat down at the kitchen table.
"Betsy.
Who else did she bring into this?"
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"Your uncle Roy was there last night.
He knew something was happening with the property.
Teresa told him he would be taken care of if he stayed quiet." Her voice dropped.
"And there's a man named Gerald Fitch.
He's a paralegal.
Teresa has been using him to prepare the documents.
He's not a lawyer.
He told her the power of attorney and the transfer form were legally sound.
I don't think he knew about the forgery either, but he prepared the paperwork."
I wrote the name down.
"Gerald Fitch," I said.
"He has an office on Gallatin Pike.
Teresa has been meeting with him for months."
"Why are you telling me this now?"
The question sat on the line for a moment.
"Because last night, when the police arrived, I watched your mother screaming at Amy while Amy was holding your sick baby." Betsy's voice steadied.
"And I thought — what did I help happen?
What was I part of?" She stopped.
"I have a daughter, Connor.
She's twenty-six.
If someone did to her what Teresa did to Amy last night, I would want someone to speak up."
I didn't say anything for a moment.
"Will you give a statement to the police?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"I already called them this morning.
Detective Reyes has my number.
I'm going in tomorrow."
"And Roy?"
A short, dry sound — not quite a laugh.
"Roy is currently not answering anyone's calls," she said.
"Which tells you everything you need to know about Roy."
After I hung up, I sat at the table for a while.
Amy appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"He's asleep," she said.
Then she looked at me.
"Who was that?"
"Betsy."
Amy's expression shifted — not surprise exactly, but a careful stillness.
"She knew," Amy said.
It wasn't a question.
"She knew part of it.
She's going to give a statement."
Amy crossed to the counter and filled a glass of water.
She drank half of it standing there.
"There's something I need to show you," she said.
She set down the glass and went to the bedroom.
She came back with a small envelope — the kind that comes with a greeting card.
She set it on the table in front of me.
"Teresa gave me this two months ago.
She said it was a birthday card from the family.
I opened it and there was no card inside.
Just this."
Inside the envelope was a single folded piece of paper.
A handwritten note in Teresa's handwriting.
*You don't belong in this family.
You never did.
Connor will understand that eventually.
When he does, make sure you leave quietly.
The house stays.*
I read it twice.
Amy watched me.
"I kept it," she said.
"I don't know why.
I just — I couldn't throw it away."
I folded it carefully and set it back on the table.
"Daniel needs to see this," I said.
"I know."
I looked at her across the table.
"How long have you been carrying all of this alone?"
May you like
She looked down at the glass of water.
"Since before Frederick was born," she said.
