Chapter 12 - Linda Finally Talks
Linda was found twelve hours later.
Not dead.
Not seriously injured.
She was sitting alone inside a roadside chapel sixty miles west of Briarwood.
A pastor called police after noticing blood on her sleeve.
The blood belonged to Ryan.
Linda refused to speak to detectives.
She asked for Margaret.
Arthur advised against it.
Margaret went anyway.
They met in a secured hospital consultation room.
Linda looked twenty years older than she had on Christmas night.
No makeup.
Hair disordered.
Hands trembling.
Margaret sat opposite her.
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Then Linda said, “I’m sorry.”
Margaret’s expression did not change.
“For the wine?”
Linda looked down.
“For everything.”
“That is a large word.”
“I know.”
Margaret waited.
Linda wiped her eyes.
“I didn’t know Ryan would become like Charles.”
Margaret leaned back.
“You knew Charles was involved with my father.”
Linda nodded.
“How long?”
“Since 1987.”
“Tell me.”
Linda took a shaky breath.
“Charles worked for Walter Hayes before he started Caldwell Financial.”
Margaret frowned.
“My father never mentioned him.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Charles handled money Walter didn’t want connected to Hayes Construction.”
Arthur sat behind Margaret, taking notes.
Linda continued.
“When Daniel started asking questions, Charles panicked.”
“Did Charles help fake Daniel’s death?”
Linda closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Margaret’s fingers tightened.
“How?”
“He arranged the insurance documentation.”
“Dental records?”
Linda nodded.
Margaret wanted to reach across the table and strike her.
Instead she asked, “Did you know Daniel was alive?”
“Not then.”
“When did you find out?”
“Nine years ago.”
“The year Charles died.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He told me.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel came back.”
Margaret stopped.
“To Briarwood?”
Linda nodded.
“He confronted Charles.”
“When?”
“Three weeks before Charles died.”
“What did he want?”
“The original contract.”
Margaret glanced at Arthur.
Linda continued.
“Charles told him Thomas had hidden it.”
“Did Daniel believe him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Ryan know?”
Linda’s face crumpled.
“Ryan heard part of the argument.”
Margaret understood.
That was how Ryan learned.
“He married Emily three years later.”
Linda shook her head.
“No.”
Margaret stared.
“No what?”
“He already knew Emily.”
“What?”
Linda wiped her face.
“Ryan met her before that charity event.”
Emily, watching through the observation glass, went still.
Margaret’s voice hardened.
“How?”
“Charles introduced them.”
“When?”
“Eight months before the charity event.”
Margaret’s stomach turned.
“Why did Emily think the charity event was their first meeting?”
“Because Ryan pretended not to know her.”
Margaret whispered, “It was planned.”
Linda nodded.
“He was supposed to get close.”
“To Emily.”
“Yes.”
“To get the house.”
“Yes.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
Her daughter’s marriage.
Her grandchildren.
Twelve years.
Built on a plan.
Linda began crying.
“I told myself he loved her afterward.”
“Did he?”
“I think he did, in his way.”
Margaret stared.
“There is no version of love that requires stealing someone’s inheritance.”
Linda flinched.
“What happened at your house?”
“Ryan came to me.”
“After he escaped?”
“Yes.”
“He was bleeding.”
“From the crash?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
Linda looked toward the door.
“The red ledger.”
Margaret frowned.
“What red ledger?”
“Charles kept records.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“Financial records?”
“Everything.”
“Where?”
Linda swallowed.
“I gave them to Thomas.”
Margaret stared.
“When?”
“The night Charles died.”
“What?”
Linda began shaking.
“Charles was dying. He made me promise to destroy them.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I finally understood what he had done.”
Margaret’s voice dropped.
“What had he done?”
Linda looked at her.
“He wasn’t only laundering money.”
Arthur stopped writing.
Linda continued.
“He had been paying people to monitor Daniel.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel had evidence.”
“Of what?”
Linda’s eyes filled with terror.
“Something worse than land fraud.”
Margaret leaned forward.
“What?”
“Children.”
The room went silent.
Margaret stared.
“What children?”
“I don’t know all of it.”
“Linda.”
“Charles had files. Birth records. Adoption papers. Payments to clinics.”
Margaret’s skin went cold.
Emily opened the observation-room door despite police objections.
“What clinics?”
Linda looked at her.
Then at Margaret.
“There was one name repeated.”
“What name?”
“Hayes Family Center.”
Margaret frowned.
She had never heard of it.
Arthur had.
His face went pale.
Margaret turned.
“You know that name.”
Arthur whispered, “It was a maternity clinic.”
“Where?”
“Briarwood.”
“When?”
“Closed in 1982.”
Margaret stared at him.
Emily was born in 1989.
No connection.
Then Linda spoke.
“Charles said it didn’t really close.”
Margaret slowly turned back.
Linda continued.
“It moved.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Ryan suddenly appeared in the doorway behind a police officer.
For one impossible second, nobody moved.
Then the officer collapsed.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Ryan held the officer’s gun.
Emily screamed.
Arthur stood.
May you like
Ryan aimed directly at Linda.
“You never know when to shut up, Mom.”
