Chapter 6 - The Note My Mother Left Behind
My mother died eleven years earlier.
She had been gentle, practical, and impossible to fool. She was the person who taught me how to negotiate, how to save money, and how to stand up for myself without losing kindness.
After she died, my father found a small wooden box in her closet.
Inside were letters, recipes, old photographs, and one sealed note addressed to me.
He had given it to me on my twenty-fifth birthday.
I had read it only once.
Chloe, if you ever doubt yourself, remember where you came from. You come from people who work with their hands, keep their word, and protect one another. Never let anyone make you ashamed of that.
Now the note was gone.
Kyle had not stolen it for money.
He had stolen it because he knew it could hurt me.
Detective Hart agreed.
“He may be trying to pressure you into withdrawing your complaints,” she said. “Or he may believe there’s evidence connected to the property deed.”
“What evidence?”
“Your mother may have known something.”
The thought had never occurred to me.
But when I called my father, he became silent.
“Dad?” I asked. “Did Mom ever mention Kyle’s father?”
A long pause followed.
Then he said, “Your mother knew Elijah before you did.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“He came to Nebraska years ago. Before you met Kyle. He was trying to buy farmland for a development project. He wanted several families to sell cheap.”
“And Mom knew him?”
“She knew he was dishonest. She found out he’d been using shell companies and forged easements to force people off their land.”
My pulse quickened.
“Did she report him?”
“She tried.”
“Dad, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Elijah disappeared from our lives. Then he died. We thought it was over.”
But it was not over.
It had never been over.
Kyle’s plan to take my father’s farm was not random.
It was connected to something older.
Something his father had started.
The next day, Detective Hart called with new information.
“We searched Susan’s storage unit.”
“What did you find?”
“Boxes of financial records. Old development contracts. And a ledger connected to Elijah Grant.”
Grant.
Kyle’s legal surname had been changed years earlier.
The Herndons were not Herndons by blood.
They had taken Susan’s maiden name after Elijah’s death.
Hart continued, “There are records showing Elijah’s company tried to acquire land in Nebraska. Your father’s property is on the same parcel map as several disputed farms.”
“So Kyle wanted the land for more than the house?”
“Yes,” Hart said. “There may be mineral rights involved. Water rights too. The property could be worth far more than anyone knew.”
The next clue came from Heather.
She called me from an unknown number at 2 a.m.
“I need to see you,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“Because Kyle is out of control.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know. He brought me to a motel outside Phoenix. He thinks I helped you.”
My heart began pounding.
“Are you safe?”
“No.”
I contacted Detective Hart immediately.
Within an hour, officers traced the call.
But by the time they reached the motel, Heather was gone.
On the bathroom mirror, written in red lipstick, were five words:
TELL CHLOE TO DROP EVERYTHING.
And underneath, taped to the sink, was my mother’s note.
May you like
Torn in half.
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