Chapter 4: The Letter My Mother Left Behind
The bedroom door opened six inches before the chair wedged beneath the handle stopped it.
"Madison!"" Rhonda snapped.
I backed away, clutching the letter.
"Go away!""
"Open the door. Now.""
The man behind her spoke calmly.
"There's no reason to make this difficult, Madison. We're only trying to protect your family.""
I almost laughed.
Protect my family?
They had stolen my college fund, taken my graduation car, forged my father's signature, and apparently discussed preventing him from coming home.
And now they wanted me to believe they were protecting me.
I looked down at my mother's handwriting.
Your father doesn't know the truth about who you really inherited this money from.
What did that mean?
I had spent seven years believing my mother had left me $85,000 and nothing more.
I had believed my father knew everything.
I had believed Rhonda was simply a selfish woman who wanted her son to have everything.
But the letter suggested something much bigger.
"Madison!"" Rhonda shouted again.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Dad.
He answered immediately.
"Baby girl?""
"Dad, they're downstairs.""
"I know. Karen just called me. I'm on my way.""
"There's a man here. He's the one from the recording.""
Dad went silent.
Then his voice changed.
"What's his name?""
"I don't know.""
"Describe him.""
I glanced toward the door.
"Dark hair. Maybe fifty. Gray jacket. He's carrying a brown leather briefcase.""
"Madison, listen to me. Don't let him inside your room.""
"Dad, they have a key.""
"I know. I'm getting help.""
I looked at the letter again.
"Dad, I found something from Mom.""
"What?""
"She left me another account.""
A long silence followed.
"Another account?""
"At Peachtree Coastal Trust.""
I heard him inhale sharply.
Then he said something I wasn't expecting.
"That's impossible.""
"Why?""
"Because I thought that company closed years ago.""
Before I could ask another question, the chair beneath the doorknob shifted.
The man pushed harder.
"Daniel's daughter," he called through the door.
"My name is Mason Pike. Your father and I have some things to discuss.""
I froze.
Mason Pike.
The name on the business card.
The private investigator Dad had apparently hired.
But why was he standing beside Rhonda?
"Dad," I whispered.
"The man's name is Mason Pike.""
My father's breathing changed.
"What?""
"He's here.""
"Madison, get away from the door.""
Then I heard a sound.
A loud crash.
Someone had kicked the chair.
I ran to the window.
My bedroom was on the second floor, overlooking the backyard.
There was no safe way down.
I turned toward the door.
"Madison," Mason said, "I know you're frightened. But the documents you're holding belong to your father.""
"They belong to my mother.""
He laughed.
"Your mother is not part of this conversation.""
That was when I heard Rhonda say something quietly.
"Just get the letter.""
The door gave another violent jerk.
The chair slid several inches.
I shoved my desk against it.
Then I opened the letter fully.
The paper smelled faintly of lavender.
My mother's perfume.
My darling Madison,
If you're reading this, someone has already tried to take what I left for you.
I wish I could explain this to you myself. I wish I could sit beside you, brush your hair away from your face, and tell you everything without a single tear.
But life doesn't always give us the time we deserve.
The $85,000 your father promised to protect was only the beginning.
Before I became ill, I established a private trust for you through Peachtree Coastal Trust. The trust was funded with money inherited from my grandfather, a man who spent his life building a business along the Georgia coast.
He left me more than I ever told anyone.
I placed the assets in your name because I wanted you to have choices. I wanted you to have a future that nobody could take away.
I stopped reading.
My mother's grandfather?
I'd never heard of him.
I continued.
There is one condition. When you turn eighteen, you become the sole beneficiary and decision-maker of the trust. Nobody can access it without your authorization.
Not your father.
Not your husband.
Not anyone.
I have appointed a trustee to protect your interests until that day.
Her name is Evelyn Brooks.
If anything happens to me, find her.
She knows why this money matters.
At the bottom was an address.
Savannah, Georgia.
And a phone number.
I photographed the letter.
Then I heard Rhonda scream.
"Stop!""
The door swung open.
The desk shifted.
The chair fell sideways.
Mason Pike stood in my doorway.
He wasn't wearing a friendly expression anymore.
"Give me the letter.""
I held it against my chest.
"No.""
He stepped inside.
"Madison, I'm not asking again.""
I backed toward the window.
"Why are you working with Rhonda?""
His eyes flickered.
"Your stepmother is trying to resolve a complicated financial situation.""
"By stealing my money?""
"Watch your accusations.""
Rhonda entered behind him.
Her face was flushed.
"Give it to him, Madison.""
I looked at her.
"You know about the trust.""
She didn't answer.
That was enough.
"You knew my mother left me more money.""
Rhonda crossed her arms.
"Your mother left a lot of confusion behind.""
"How much is in the account?""
"That's not your concern.""
"Then why are you trying to steal the letter?""
Mason held out his hand.
"Enough.""
He took another step.
Then a voice thundered from downstairs.
"GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!""
Dad.
I had never been so happy to hear someone shout.
Mason turned.
Rhonda went completely still.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs.
A second later, my father appeared in the hallway.
He was still wearing his offshore work clothes. His boots were muddy, his shirt was wrinkled, and a small travel bag hung from his shoulder.
He looked exhausted.
But his eyes were fixed on Mason.
"Get your hands away from her.""
Mason slowly lowered his arm.
"Daniel. This isn't what it looks like.""
Dad dropped his bag.
"Then explain it.""
Rhonda stepped forward.
"Daniel, sweetheart, you're home early.""
He didn't look at her.
"Who is he?""
"He's helping me with some paperwork.""
Dad looked at the blue envelope in my hands.
Then at the open filing cabinet.
Then at Mason.
"You're supposed to be investigating her.""
Mason swallowed.
Rhonda's face changed.
"What?""
Dad finally turned toward his wife.
"That's right, Rhonda. I hired Mason three weeks ago to investigate the missing money.""
Mason raised both hands.
"Daniel, let me explain.""
Dad stepped closer.
"I paid you to find out who forged my signature. I did not pay you to break into my daughter's bedroom.""
Rhonda's mouth opened.
Then she looked at Mason.
"You told me he didn't know.""
Mason closed his eyes.
Dad stared at her.
"Didn't know what?""
Nobody answered.
I stepped forward.
"There's another account, Dad. Mom left it to me.""
He looked at the letter.
"What account?""
I handed it to him.
He read the first few lines.
His expression changed.
Then he reached the final paragraph and stopped.
"Evelyn Brooks," he whispered.
"You know her?""
Dad slowly lowered the paper.
"Madison, I need you to understand something.""
"What?""
"Your mother never told me about this trust.""
Rhonda laughed nervously.
"Oh, Daniel, this is ridiculous. You're going to believe a letter from a dead woman over your own wife?""
Dad looked at her.
"Don't.""
"But she—"
"I said don't.""
He turned toward Mason.
"Leave.""
Mason picked up his briefcase.
"This isn't over.""
Dad stepped aside.
"It is for you.""
Mason walked downstairs.
Rhonda remained in the hallway.
She looked at Dad, then at me.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that the balance of power had changed.
"Daniel," she whispered.
"We need to talk privately.""
Dad shook his head.
"No. We're done talking privately.""
He pulled his phone from his pocket.
"First, I'm calling the police.""
Rhonda's face went white.
Then she said something that made my father stop dialing.
"If you call them, Daniel, I'll tell them what happened on the rig.""
Dad stared at her.
"What did you just say?""
Rhonda smiled.
And I realized there was something else my father hadn't told me.
May you like
Something that had happened 140 miles offshore.
Something she apparently knew about.
