Chapter 3 - The Evidence in the Boxes
Gemma was taken to the hospital before she could tell me everything.
The paramedics checked her for dehydration, bruising, and signs of concussion. She had not eaten properly in days. There were marks on her wrists from being grabbed, and a deep bruise along her shoulder where she had hit the wall.
I rode in the ambulance with her.
I held her hand the entire way.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I looked at her in disbelief.
“Sorry?”
“I should have called you sooner.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I thought if I stayed quiet, they would stop.”
My throat tightened.
“They will never get another chance to hurt you.”
Gemma looked at me through exhausted eyes.
“You didn’t know, Mason.”
“I should have.”
“You tried to protect me.”
“I thought defending you at dinner was enough. I thought warning them was enough.” I looked down at our hands. “I was wrong.”
She squeezed my fingers weakly.
“You came home.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“Now we make sure they answer for this.”
At the hospital, Detective Riley took Gemma’s statement in private. Daniel stayed nearby, speaking with officers and organizing the documents recovered from the storage room.
When he finally came into the room, he carried a manila folder and looked more serious than I had ever seen him.
“The police seized the boxes,” he said. “They’re treating the storage room as evidence.”
Gemma sat up slightly. “Did they find the documents?”
“Yes. And there’s more than we expected.”
Daniel placed several copies on the table.
The first was a transfer from a small family trust established by my late father.
The second showed payments routed through my mother’s personal account.
The third listed a company called Valley Ridge Property Solutions.
I stared at the name.
“I’ve never heard of this company.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” Daniel said.
Gemma looked at me. “I saw that name two weeks ago.”
“What?”
“I was helping your mother organize some old insurance records. There were letters from Valley Ridge hidden inside a box of Christmas decorations.”
My mother had told us she needed Gemma’s help because her knee hurt.
Apparently, while Gemma was sorting papers, she had found something my mother had tried to hide.
“I asked Valerie about it,” Gemma continued. “She said it was just Spencer’s business.”
Daniel nodded. “That part is true. Spencer is listed as the owner. But the company has no real office, no employees, and almost no legitimate activity.”
“What does it do?”
“On paper? Home renovation consulting.”
“And in reality?”
Daniel looked toward the door to make sure no one was listening.
“It appears to be a shell company.”
My stomach dropped.
He slid another document toward us.
“This company received at least two hundred and forty thousand dollars from Evelyn’s accounts over the past year. Some of that money came from your father’s trust. Some appears to have come from loans taken out under the names of elderly homeowners.”
Gemma’s face went white.
“Elderly homeowners?”
Daniel nodded.
“People who may have been manipulated into signing renovation contracts and financing agreements. The paperwork suggests they were charged for repairs that were never completed.”
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the steady beep of the monitor beside Gemma’s bed.
My brother Spencer had always been irresponsible. He bounced between jobs, started businesses he never finished, and blamed everyone else when his plans fell apart.
But fraud?
Stealing from seniors?
Using my mother’s name to move money?
I couldn’t process it.
Then Gemma spoke quietly.
“There’s more.”
I turned toward her.
“Valerie made me review a spreadsheet last month,” she said. “She claimed she needed help with taxes. I noticed payments coming from accounts that didn’t match the names on the invoices.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to look into it first. I didn’t want to accuse your family without proof.”
My chest hurt.
“So they realized you knew.”
“Yes.”
“And they tried to force you to sign the power of attorney.”
Gemma nodded.
“I think they wanted access to our savings because they needed money quickly. But they also wanted to know what documents I had copied.”
“Did you copy them?”
She looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
Gemma hesitated.
Then she smiled faintly.
“Somewhere they won’t find them.”
Before I could ask more, Detective Riley entered the room.
“Mrs. Hayes,” she said, “we have an update.”
Gemma’s hand tightened around mine.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Your mother and Valerie were taken in for questioning. Spencer was not at the house.”
I felt a flash of relief, followed immediately by concern.
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He checked the screen, then frowned.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A bank fraud investigator,” he said. “They found an attempted wire transfer from your joint savings account.”
Gemma sat upright.
“That’s impossible. I froze the account last night.”
Daniel shook his head.
“The transfer was initiated before it was frozen.”
“How much?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Eighty-five thousand dollars.”
Every dollar we had saved.
Every dollar we had planned to use for fertility treatment.
Gemma’s face broke.
“No.”
Daniel lifted a hand.
“Listen to me. The transaction is pending. We may still be able to stop it.”
“Who initiated it?” I demanded.
He turned the phone screen toward me.
The request had been submitted from an account bearing my name.
But the signature on the authorization form wasn’t mine.
It was a forgery.
And beneath it was a notary stamp.
May you like
The name on the stamp belonged to my mother.
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