Chapter 11 - WHAT SIMON REALLY WANTED
My first thought was that he looked terrible.
My second was that I had no idea how he got into the house.
My father appeared behind him.
“What are you doing here?”
Simon lifted both hands.
“I’m not armed.”
Daniel stepped in front of me.
“Leave.”
Simon looked at the envelope.
“Give me that.”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
For nine years, his voice could change me.
Soft Simon could make me forgive.
Funny Simon could make me laugh.
Wounded Simon could make me apologize for things I had not done.
Now I heard only manipulation.
“Move away from the doorway.”
My father reached for his phone.
Simon’s eyes hardened.
“If you call the police, everyone loses.”
Daniel spoke.
“They’re already looking for you.”
“I know.”
That was not what I expected.
Simon looked at me.
“Patricia lied.”
“About what?”
“Almost everything.”
I laughed.
“You’ll need to narrow it down.”
“She didn’t arrange for me to meet you because of nostalgia.”
“I know.”
“She wanted the account.”
“I know.”
His expression changed.
“You found out about Marlowe?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Then you know Evelyn stole the money.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“My grandfather believed she did.”
“He was right.”
“How would you know?”
Simon looked toward my mother.
“Because Patricia saw the transfer happen.”
My mother stepped forward.
“Then why didn’t she testify?”
“Because Evelyn owned her.”
“What does that mean?”
Simon kept watching the envelope.
“Evelyn had evidence Patricia helped manipulate financial records.”
My mother went pale.
“So Patricia helped her?”
“At first.”
“How much?”
“Enough to go to prison.”
I looked at Simon.
“And you?”
He smiled bitterly.
“I inherited the cleanup.”
“No.”
“You inherited choices.”
His smile disappeared.
“I spent my entire childhood watching my mother panic every time the phone rang.”
“That doesn’t give you permission to use me.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He looked exhausted.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t know about the account when I first met you.”
I laughed.
“You researched me for six months.”
“Because my mother told me you were connected to people who destroyed our family.”
“And then?”
“And then I met you.”
His voice changed.
For the first time, something almost real entered it.
“I liked you.”
I hated that part of me reacted.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I loved you.”
“You had another fiancée.”
“I never married her.”
“Congratulations.”
“She was part of a plan.”
The cruelty of that sentence stunned me.
“What plan?”
Simon looked away.
“Hart-Voss needed access to property linked to the trust.”
“So you used her too.”
“She had contacts.”
“People are not tools.”
His jaw tightened.
“I understand that now.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You understand consequences now.”
He looked at me.
“That’s different.”
For once, he had no response.
Daniel raised his phone.
“I’ve called Agent Bell.”
Simon nodded.
“I assumed you would.”
“Then why come?”
His eyes returned to the envelope.
“Because Evelyn knows Rachel found the trust.”
The room went still.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is Evelyn?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why should I believe anything you say?”
Simon reached slowly into his jacket.
My father stepped forward.
Daniel shouted.
Simon stopped.
Then he pulled out a phone.
Not his normal phone.
A cheap prepaid device.
He placed it on the floor.
“Look at the messages.”
Daniel picked it up.
The most recent text had arrived twenty minutes earlier.
SHE FOUND IT.
Below that.
GET THE MERCER LETTER BEFORE BELL DOES.
Below that.
IF YOU FAIL AGAIN, PATRICIA PAYS FOR IT.
My mother covered her mouth.
I looked at Simon.
“Evelyn sent these?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“I’ve never spoken to her directly from this number.”
“Then who?”
“A man who works for her.”
“Name?”
“Graham Pike.”
Daniel photographed everything.
Simon stepped closer.
“Rachel, the numbers in that letter are not enough by themselves.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I found another part years ago.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“Patricia had it.”
“What did it say?”
“A bank name.”
“Which bank?”
“Not a bank anymore.”
He swallowed.
“It merged twice.”
“Where is the account now?”
“That’s what I was trying to trace.”
“For nine years?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“For nine years, I was trying to decide whether I could have both.”
The honesty was almost worse than another lie.
“Both what?”
“You.”
His voice lowered.
“And the money.”
Nobody spoke.
Then he laughed bitterly.
“Turns out I lost both.”
I stared at him.
“You lost me long before I learned about any money.”
“I know.”
Police sirens sounded outside.
Simon closed his eyes.
My father looked through the window.
“You need to go outside.”
Simon did not move.
Instead, he looked at me one last time.
“Rachel, listen carefully.”
“No.”
“Please.”
Something in his face stopped me.
Fear.
But not for himself.
“At the condo, Emily told you about documents.”
“How do you know?”
“I know everything she told you.”
My stomach tightened.
“How?”
He didn’t answer.
“Simon.”
“She isn’t who you think she is.”
I stared at him.
“She didn’t know about me.”
“She knew more than she admitted.”
“No.”
“She knew my mother before she met me.”
My pulse jumped.
“What?”
“Ask her about Evelyn.”
The front door opened downstairs.
Voices.
Police.
Agent Bell.
Simon spoke faster.
“Emily’s last name isn’t Dawson.”
“What is it?”
He looked toward the stairs.
Footsteps approached.
“Simon.”
He met my eyes.
“Marlowe.”
My blood ran cold.
Then Agent Bell entered the room.
Simon immediately raised his hands.
The moment was over.
But as agents took him downstairs, he turned back toward me.
May you like
“Ask Emily who her mother is.”
Then he was gone.
