Chapter 7 - The Missing Trust Documents and $80,000 Mystery
I knew the answer.
I just didn’t want to say it.
“Melissa and me.”
Detective Morales asked, “Equally?”
“Yes.”
At least that was what Dad had told me two years earlier.
Ryan sat beside me.
“What about control?”
I looked at him.
He was thinking faster than I was.
Dad had always said Melissa liked working at the daycare.
I didn’t.
I had my own career.
If we inherited the business, Melissa would probably run it.
Maybe that had been the plan.
I told Morales.
He said, “We’ll speak tomorrow.”
After the call, I didn’t sleep.
By morning, anger had replaced fear.
Dad came downstairs at six.
He saw my face.
“What happened?”
I handed him coffee.
“Mom was here with Melissa before my trip.”
His cup stopped halfway to his mouth.
“What?”
“Noah remembered.”
Dad slowly set the cup down.
“When?”
“We don’t know exactly.”
“Why?”
“Melissa photographed documents from my office.”
His eyes narrowed.
“What documents?”
“Ryan thinks it might have been your trust.”
Dad stared at me.
Then he walked toward my office.
I followed.
The bottom drawer was locked.
Ryan had changed the tiny desk lock during the night after our call with Morales.
Before that, the key had always been taped beneath the desk.
Dad knew.
Mom knew.
Melissa probably knew.
Ryan opened it.
I pulled out the estate envelope.
Nothing looked missing.
Dad opened it.
He went through the pages.
Then stopped.
“This is an old version.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
“This copy is from three years ago.”
“I thought you gave me the updated one.”
“I did.”
My stomach tightened.
“What changed?”
Dad lowered himself into my desk chair.
“In the newer version, I removed direct ownership transfers.”
“Why?”
“Because the center was becoming too complicated. I changed the plan so it would be sold after my death and the proceeds divided.”
Ryan folded his arms.
“Meaning Melissa wouldn’t automatically control it.”
“Correct.”
“When did she learn that?”
Dad thought.
“Maybe six months ago.”
“From you?”
“I mentioned it at dinner.”
I remembered the dinner.
Melissa had barely spoken afterward.
At the time, I thought she was upset Dad was talking about death.
Now I wondered.
Dad examined the envelope again.
“The updated copy is gone.”
A chill crawled across my skin.
“Could you have moved it?”
“No.”
Ryan pulled out his phone.
“We call Morales.”
Dad stopped him.
“Wait.”
Ryan’s face hardened.
“Why?”
“I have the original updated plan with my attorney. This copy doesn’t affect anything.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I know.”
Dad stared at the papers.
“The question is why Melissa wanted it.”
We called.
Morales sent an officer to collect information.
By ten, Dad’s attorney confirmed the current estate documents were secure.
No legal change had been made.
That should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
At eleven, my mother arrived again.
This time, she didn’t ring the bell.
She stood at the sidewalk and called Dad.
I watched through the window.
He answered.
“Diane.”
“I need to talk to Sarah.”
“No.”
I couldn’t hear Mom’s response, but Dad’s voice grew firmer.
“She doesn’t owe you a conversation.”
I stepped outside anyway.
Ryan followed.
Mom looked exhausted.
She held her purse tightly.
“I wasn’t going to come to the door.”
“Good.”
She flinched.
“I need to explain.”
“Explain being in my house without me?”
Her eyes widened.
So she knew.
Ryan moved closer.
“You have five minutes.”
Mom looked at him.
“This is family.”
“He is family.”
I pointed toward the house.
“So is Noah.”
Mom swallowed.
“I came with Melissa one afternoon.”
“Why?”
“She said you had paperwork Dad needed from your office.”
Dad stared at her.
“I never sent her.”
“I know that now.”
“When did you know?”
Mom hesitated.
Dad’s voice rose.
“When?”
“The same day.”
My heart sank.
“What happened?”
Mom looked at the ground.
“Melissa opened your desk drawer. I thought she was getting paperwork. Then she started taking pictures.”
“And you did what?”
“I asked why.”
“What did she say?”
“That she needed proof Dad was cutting her out.”
Dad’s face twisted.
“I wasn’t cutting her out.”
“I told her that.”
“Did you stop her?”
Mom didn’t answer.
That was the answer.
I stepped back.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she begged me.”
Ryan muttered something under his breath.
Mom started crying.
“She said she was scared. She said you and your father were planning to sell the center behind her back.”
“So you protected her.”
“I thought it was family business.”
“She entered my house.”
“I was with her.”
“That makes it worse.”
Mom wiped her face.
“I know.”
I almost laughed.
“You know now.”
“Yes.”
“After Noah got hurt.”
Her face crumpled.
“I didn’t know she would ever hurt him.”
“But you knew she lied.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she crossed boundaries.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she was stealing information.”
Mom closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Every answer felt like a door closing.
Dad looked at her with an expression I had never seen.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
“What was in the envelope you handed her?” I asked.
Mom opened her eyes.
“What envelope?”
“The video shows you handing Melissa one.”
Her face went white.
Ryan noticed too.
“What was in it?”
Mom’s lips trembled.
“Cash.”
“How much?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
Dad stared.
“Why?”
“She said she owed money.”
“To who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Diane.”
“I don’t know!”
Mom started crying harder.
“She said she had made a mistake at work and needed to fix it before Frank found out.”
Dad gripped the porch railing.
“You gave her five thousand dollars to hide something from me?”
“I thought it was financial.”
Dad laughed bitterly.
“That’s supposed to make it better?”
“No.”
Mom looked at me.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid your father would fire her.”
“Maybe he should have.”
“I know.”
For the first time, she said it without defending Melissa.
It should have felt like progress.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
“Did she ever tell you about children being hurt?”
“No.”
“Complaints?”
“No.”
“Videos?”
“No.”
“Did she ever mention Carla?”
Mom hesitated again.
I felt my stomach drop.
“What?”
“Melissa said Carla was helping her keep the daycare running because Dad was getting old.”
Dad went still.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she say anything else?”
Mom swallowed.
“She said soon the center would finally be hers.”
A car pulled up behind us.
Detective Morales stepped out.
He had apparently come himself.
He walked toward the porch.
“Mrs. Reynolds?”
Mom nodded nervously.
“I need to ask you some questions.”
Then he looked at Dad.
“And Mr. Reynolds, I need to speak with you too.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Morales’s expression was grim.
“We reviewed the daycare’s financial records.”
Dad’s face tightened.
“How bad?”
Morales glanced toward Mom.
Then back at Dad.
“Over the last eighteen months, more than eighty thousand dollars appears to have been diverted through false vendor payments.”
Mom covered her mouth.
Dad looked like he had been struck.
I whispered, “Melissa?”
Morales answered carefully.
“The accounts receiving the money are connected to Carla.”
Ryan asked the obvious question.
“And Melissa?”
May you like
Morales looked at me.
“One of the videos appears to show your sister demanding half.”
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