Chapter 4 - THE SISTER WHO KNEW
Rebecca Ashworth arrived at the hospital wearing sunglasses despite the gray winter morning.
Cole had not seen her in person for nearly three years.
She removed the glasses when she saw him.
For a moment, they were children again.
Same dark hair.
Same gray eyes.
Same stubborn jaw inherited from a father neither liked to discuss.
Then Cole remembered the security footage.
“Why were you there?”
Rebecca stopped.
“Where?”
“Mom’s apartment.”
Her face changed.
Emma stood near the door.
Hale remained outside.
Cole had insisted on no guards inside.
Rebecca noticed Emma.
“Who is she?”
“The woman who kept Mom alive while you watched her get thrown onto a sidewalk.”
Rebecca’s mouth opened.
“That’s not what happened.”
“Then explain.”
She looked toward Margaret’s hospital room.
“Is she okay?”
“You don’t get to ask before answering.”
Rebecca flinched.
Good.
Then Cole hated himself for enjoying it.
She sat.
“Vincent called me.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Why?”
“He said Mom had started telling people you were coming back.”
“So?”
“He said she was confused.”
“Was she?”
“No.”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
“He said if you came home and found her living like that, you’d blame everyone.”
“I do.”
“I didn’t know about the money.”
Cole laughed bitterly.
“You told me she was fine for eight years.”
“Because Vincent told me she was.”
“You never visited?”
Rebecca looked down.
“I did at first.”
“How long?”
“About a year.”
“Then?”
“She stopped letting me in.”
“Why?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Because I asked her to forgive you.”
Cole went still.
“She thought I was taking your side.”
“So you stopped going.”
“I had my own life.”
Emma looked away.
Cole heard the excuse for what it was because he had used it too.
Rebecca continued.
“Vincent kept saying she was taken care of.”
“And the apartment?”
“He called me because he said Mom was refusing assisted living and wandering.”
“She wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“What did you do?”
Rebecca cried quietly.
“I went there to convince her to leave.”
“Where?”
“Lakeview Care.”
Cole stared.
“The fake facility bills.”
“What?”
He pushed the records toward her.
Rebecca read.
Her face drained.
“I didn’t know.”
“Did Vincent ask you to sign anything?”
Silence.
Cole’s pulse changed.
“Rebecca.”
“He had papers.”
“What papers?”
“Guardianship evaluation.”
Emma whispered, “Oh no.”
Rebecca continued.
“He said if Mom kept refusing care, we might need a temporary guardianship.”
“Who would control it?”
She looked at him.
“Me.”
Cole’s face hardened.
“Or Vincent?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“I don’t know!”
Her voice broke.
“I didn’t sign.”
Cole stopped.
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
“He got angry.”
“That’s why he put her out?”
“I think he wanted to scare her into agreeing.”
Cole looked at Emma.
Margaret had refused to lie.
Refused to sign.
Refused to surrender control.
So Vincent made her homeless.
Rebecca wiped her face.
“I went back the next morning. She was gone.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
“I tried.”
Cole stared.
“What?”
“Your assistant said you were overseas and unavailable.”
“What assistant?”
“Vincent.”
Of course.
Cole stood and walked toward the window.
Eight years.
Vincent had not merely stolen money.
He had managed communication.
Filtered grief.
Redirected calls.
Told each member of the Ashworth family whatever kept them apart.
Emma said quietly, “He didn’t create the distance.”
Cole turned.
She continued.
“But he learned how to use it.”
Nobody liked hearing that.
Which made it true.
Margaret woke after noon.
This time Rebecca went in first.
Cole watched through the glass.
His sister stood beside the bed like a guilty child.
Margaret stared at her for a long time.
Then held out one hand.
Rebecca began crying.
Cole looked away.
Emma stood beside him.
“You’re allowed to go in too.”
“I know.”
“But?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Try the truth.”
He looked at her.
“That seems to be your solution for everything.”
“Works more often than money.”
He entered ten minutes later.
Rebecca sat near the window.
Margaret looked at both children.
“My babies.”
Cole nearly broke.
He sat.
“Mom.”
She touched his hand.
“Vincent said you hated me.”
“I never hated you.”
“You left.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t call.”
“No.”
“You sent money.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes filled.
“I didn’t want money.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He swallowed.
“I’m learning.”
Margaret looked at Rebecca.
“And you.”
Rebecca lowered her head.
“I’m sorry.”
Margaret’s voice sharpened.
“You both thought paying somebody else to check on me was the same as checking.”
Cole almost smiled despite himself.
There she was.
His mother.
Weak.
Thin.
Still capable of cutting through nonsense with one sentence.
Then she looked toward Emma.
“You should feed her.”
Emma blinked.
“What?”
“You look too skinny.”
Cole stared at his mother.
Rebecca started laughing through tears.
For twenty minutes, the room felt almost like family.
Then Detective Hale entered.
“Sorry.”
Cole stood.
“What?”
“We found Dennis Cole.”
“The notary.”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
“Indiana.”
“Alive?”
“For now.”
Hale gave him a look.
Cole raised both hands slightly.
“I’m behaving.”
Emma muttered, “Debatable.”
Hale continued.
“Dennis says Vincent paid him to notarize Margaret’s forged property transfer.”
Cole’s jaw tightened.
“Good.”
“He also says Vincent kept a second set of books.”
“Where?”
“He doesn’t know. But there’s something else.”
Hale looked toward Margaret.
“Vincent wasn’t working alone.”
Rebecca went pale.
“Who?”
“Dennis says the operation began before Cole ever left Chicago.”
The room became silent.
Cole frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Your father.”
Margaret froze.
Cole stared at Hale.
“My father has been dead sixteen years.”
Hale nodded.
“Dennis claims Vincent started handling Ashworth family accounts under your father.”
Margaret whispered, “No.”
Cole looked at her.
“What?”
She turned toward him.
“Your father didn’t die broke.”
Cole stopped breathing.
Margaret’s fingers trembled.
“He left money.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“For who?”
“For you.”
The room became completely still.
Margaret continued.
“Your father had a life-insurance policy and a private investment account. Vincent told me both disappeared because of debt.”
Cole stared.
“When?”
“After the funeral.”
Rebecca whispered, “How much?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I never knew.”
Hale answered.
“We found the policy.”
Cole looked at him.
“Value?”
“Two-point-eight million.”
Cole laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
He had built his first empire from nothing because he believed his father left nothing.
He had entered a world he might never have entered if that money had existed.
“Who collected it?”
Hale slid over a copy.
Beneficiary altered eleven days before his father’s death.
New beneficiary:
Vincent Mercer.
Cole stared at the signature.
His father’s name.
Maybe forged.
Maybe not.
Then Hale said:
“And Vincent just emptied three accounts this morning.”
Cole looked up.
“How much?”
“Almost fourteen million.”
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
Cole’s phone vibrated.
A photograph arrived.
Moose.
Standing outside the hospital entrance.
Taken minutes earlier.
Below it:
YOU TOOK THE OLD WOMAN BACK.
I’LL TAKE SOMETHING YOU ACTUALLY LOVE NEXT.
Cole turned toward the window.
Moose was no longer outside Margaret’s door.
The leash lay on the floor.
May you like
And the hospital security guard assigned to the elevator was missing.
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