Chapter 8 - Margaret's Forgotten Journey)
Margaret listened to Paul without interrupting.
They had moved him upstairs after paramedics arrived.
He refused transport until he saw her.
When mother and son faced each other after twenty-seven years, neither spoke at first.
Margaret reached for his face.
Paul leaned into her hand.
Then she slapped him.
Claire's eyes widened.
Paul gave a weak laugh.
"I probably deserved that."
Margaret hit his shoulder with both hands.
"You were alive."
"I'm sorry."
"You were alive."
"I know."
"Twenty-seven years."
"I know."
She pulled him into her arms.
Both began crying.
David had been taken to the sheriff's office for questioning related to unlawful confinement and suspected elder exploitation.
Mark remained downstairs with Ruiz.
For a few precious minutes, Margaret and Paul were alone with Claire.
Then Paul said the thing Claire had been dreading.
"You came to the hospital."
Margaret drew back.
"What?"
"After I was stabbed."
"No."
"Yes."
"I didn't know you were alive."
"You did for one night."
Margaret stared at him.
Paul reached into his pocket.
Ruiz had allowed him to keep a folded photocopy recovered from Room B.
He gave it to Margaret.
It was a hospital visitor log.
October 22, 1999.
Visitor: Margaret Bennett.
Patient registered as John Doe.
Margaret stared at her own signature.
"No."
Paul's voice softened.
"You found me."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"No."
Margaret shook her head.
"I would remember."
"You did remember."
"When?"
"That night."
Claire sat beside her.
"Margaret, were you taking any medication after Arthur died?"
"Sleeping pills."
"What kind?"
"I don't remember."
Paul answered.
"Clonazepam. And something else."
Margaret looked at him.
"How do you know?"
"You told me."
Paul swallowed.
"You came into my hospital room at three in the morning. You said David knew I survived."
Margaret's face twisted.
"I don't remember."
"You told me I had to disappear."
"No."
"You gave me twelve hundred dollars and Arthur's second key."
Margaret stared at him.
"The silver one?"
Paul nodded.
"Then you said something strange."
"What?"
"You said, forgive me when I forget."
Margaret began shaking.
Claire crouched in front of her.
"Margaret, look at me."
Her eyes focused.
"Did David control your medications after Arthur died?"
"Sometimes."
"Did you feel unusually confused?"
"Everyone said grief."
"Did you have memory gaps?"
Margaret closed her eyes.
"Months."
Paul nodded.
"I tried calling later. David always answered."
Margaret whispered, "The late-night calls."
"Me."
"Why didn't you speak?"
"I was afraid he was recording."
"Why stay gone so long?"
Paul looked toward the doorway.
"Because David convinced everyone I was unstable. He had documents claiming I'd assaulted Dad, stolen money, threatened the family."
"Forged?"
"Some. Some based on things he'd manipulated."
Margaret covered her face.
"What happened to you?"
"I changed names. Worked construction. Then shipping. I spent years trying to prove what happened without coming near the family."
"Why return now?"
Paul looked at Claire.
"Six months ago I learned David was trying to sell this house."
Margaret lowered her hands.
"He can't."
"Not legally."
"The restriction."
Paul nodded.
"Arthur designed it that way. The property can't be transferred cleanly while evidence remains in Lower Room B."
Claire finally understood.
"So David forged Margaret's deed because he needs control of the property before selling it."
Paul nodded.
"There's more."
"Of course there is," Claire whispered.
Paul almost smiled.
"The factory property was sold years ago. David lost most of the money. This house is worth nearly two million now because of the development around it."
Margaret looked stunned.
"I never cared what it was worth."
"David does."
"What did you do when you came back?"
"I contacted Mark."
Margaret's expression changed.
"Why?"
"Because he'd spent years sending me small messages."
"Messages?"
"Birthday cards to an old post office box. No return address. Never signed."
Mark appeared in the doorway.
"I wanted to know you were alive."
Paul looked at him.
"You also wanted to know whether I still had the evidence."
Mark lowered his head.
Margaret stared at him.
"Is that true?"
Mark whispered, "Yes."
"Why?"
"Because David said if the records ever came out, I'd go to prison too."
"Would you?"
"I helped move Paul."
"You thought he was dead."
"I also lied to police."
Margaret's voice hardened.
"You let me believe my son abandoned me."
Mark began crying.
"I was seventeen."
"You were seventeen then."
She pointed toward the floor.
"What were you yesterday?"
Mark had no answer.
Paul looked at Claire.
"Mark knew I was staying downstairs."
Margaret turned on him.
"You knew?"
Mark nodded.
"For six weeks?"
"Yes."
"And you said nothing?"
"Paul made me promise."
Paul shook his head.
"Not exactly."
Everyone looked at him.
Paul continued.
"I made Mark choose."
"Choose what?" Claire asked.
"Help me recover the evidence or tell David I was back."
Paul's eyes moved to his brother.
"He chose both."
Mark whispered, "I was trying to keep everyone alive."
Paul laughed.
"That's what cowards always call it."
Mark flinched.
Margaret looked between her sons.
"What happened two days ago?"
Mark sat down.
"David found the hidden panel open."
Paul continued.
"He caught me in the pantry."
"Did he recognize you?"
"Immediately."
"What did he do?"
"Hit me with a flashlight. Dragged me downstairs. Mark came in during it."
Margaret looked at Mark.
"And?"
"I stopped David from killing him."
Paul gave him a cold look.
"You stopped him from killing me quickly."
Claire frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Mark looked sick.
"David locked Paul in Room B."
"Why?"
"He wanted the second key."
Paul nodded.
"He knew the hospital ledger and lab report were in the cabinet."
Margaret whispered, "But you didn't have the key."
"No."
"Where is it?"
Paul looked at her.
"I gave it back to you twenty-seven years ago."
Margaret stared blankly.
"No."
"Two years after I disappeared."
"I never saw you again."
"You didn't."
"Then how?"
"I mailed it."
Margaret slowly looked toward her empty jewelry box.
Claire understood first.
"You hid it there."
Margaret's eyes widened.
"Beneath the velvet."
Mark whispered, "David found it yesterday."
Paul looked toward the basement.
"Then the cabinet is empty."
Detective Ruiz appeared in the hallway.
"No."
Everyone turned.
She held up a silver key with a blue plastic tag.
"It was in Mark's pocket."
Margaret stared at her middle son.
Mark closed his eyes.
May you like
Ruiz continued.
"And I think it's time he explains why."
