Chapter 9: The Truth About Emily's Final Days
I stared at Tara.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I forgot about the missing cash, the forged signature, and the attempted beneficiary change.
All I could hear was her whisper.
Someone threatened to expose what happened to Emily before she died.
My first wife had been gone for six years.
I'd spent those years learning how to live with her absence. I kept her photograph on my desk. I told Molly stories about her mother whenever she asked. On difficult anniversaries, we'd visit the cemetery together and leave flowers.
There had been pain, but there had never been a question about what happened.
Emily had been diagnosed with an aggressive illness. We'd fought it as long as we could. In the end, her body had simply run out of strength.
I had been there.
I had held her hand.
I'd heard her final words.
"What are you talking about?"" I asked.
Tara's eyes filled.
"I didn't want you to find out this way.""
"Find out what?""
She looked toward the staircase.
"Not in front of the children.""
I felt my hands curl into fists.
"You've spent the last twenty-four hours accusing my daughter of theft, and now you're telling me someone is threatening you over my first wife's death. You don't get to choose when I hear the truth.""
Tara flinched.
"I didn't cause what happened to Emily.""
"Then what happened?""
She looked at Richard's empty chair.
"Can we please talk privately?""
I glanced at Cole.
"Go sit with Molly for a moment.""
Cole nodded and disappeared into the living room.
I turned back to Tara.
"Start talking.""
She sat down slowly.
"About eight months after Emily died, I found a box of papers in the home office. It was tucked behind the old computer.""
I remembered the computer. I'd kept it for years because it contained photographs and documents I couldn't bear to sort through.
"What was in the box?""
"Letters. Insurance records. Medical bills. There was also a small notebook.""
My heart began beating harder.
"What notebook?""
"A notebook Emily kept during her final months.""
I felt the room tilt slightly.
"I never saw that.""
"I know.""
"Where is it?""
Tara looked down.
"I don't have it anymore.""
I stared at her.
"What do you mean, you don't have it?""
"I gave it to someone.""
"Who?""
She pressed her fingers together.
"Someone who contacted me after I found it.""
I could barely speak.
"Why would you give a stranger my wife's private papers?""
"He wasn't a stranger. He said he'd worked with the organization that handled some of Emily's treatment expenses.""
"What organization?""
"I don't remember the exact name.""
"You don't remember?""
"I was overwhelmed, Scott!""
She stood and began pacing.
"He called me because he'd heard I was helping you organize the paperwork. He said there were discrepancies in some of the records. He told me Emily had been trying to get something corrected before she died.""
I stared at her.
"What discrepancies?""
"I don't know.""
"Then why did you give him the notebook?""
"Because he said he could help settle the outstanding expenses. He said there might be money available to cover bills that hadn't been reimbursed.""
I felt a deep, familiar ache in my chest.
Emily had spent months worrying about medical costs. Even with insurance, the bills had been relentless. I remembered her apologizing for needing another prescription, another appointment, another day when she couldn't work.
She'd apologized for being sick.
I'd told her not to.
"Did you tell me about this person?""
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because he told me the records were confidential. He said if I shared them before the review was complete, it could delay everything.""
I stared at her.
"And you believed him?""
"I wanted to help.""
"You always say that.""
Tara's face crumpled.
"I know.""
I turned away, pressing my palms against the desk.
For six years, I'd believed the worst thing that had happened to our family was losing Emily.
Now my wife was telling me someone might have used Emily's medical records to threaten her.
I needed facts.
Not another explanation built on fear.
"What's the person's name?""
Tara shook her head.
"I don't know if the name he gave me was real.""
"How did he contact you?""
"By phone. Then email.""
"Do you still have the emails?""
"I deleted them.""
"All of them?""
She nodded.
I closed my eyes.
"Of course you did.""
"Scott, please.""
I turned toward her.
"Did this person ask you for money?""
"Not at first.""
"When did that change?""
"About a year ago.""
She wiped her cheeks.
"He said the records showed that Emily had requested a review of some expenses before she died. He claimed there was a document proving someone had mishandled money intended for her treatment.""
My stomach tightened.
"Who had mishandled it?""
"He wouldn't tell me unless I helped him recover some of the missing funds.""
"How much?""
"At first, he asked for nine hundred dollars.""
The number hit me like a physical blow.
The same nine hundred dollars that should have gone to Molly.
"You paid him?""
Tara nodded.
"From the money I withdrew.""
I stared at her.
"You sent nine hundred dollars to someone who threatened you with a document about my dead wife?""
"He said he'd stop contacting me once the payment cleared.""
"And did he?""
"For a while.""
I felt sick.
"Then what?""
"He came back three weeks ago. He said there was another account connected to Emily's records. He claimed that if the remaining money wasn't transferred, he'd send everything to you.""
"The twelve hundred dollars?""
"Yes.""
I stared at her.
"You took money from our household to pay him.""
"I was trying to make him go away.""
"And when you couldn't get the twelve hundred dollars from the bank, you put three hundred dollars in Molly's backpack and accused her of stealing.""
Tara covered her face.
"I thought if you believed she'd taken the money, you'd stop asking questions about the accounts. I thought I could buy time.""
The silence that followed was unbearable.
"You used my daughter as a shield.""
Tara lowered her hands.
"I didn't want to hurt her.""
"But you did.""
"I know.""
"No, Tara. I don't think you do.""
I walked to the window.
Outside, a neighbor was loading groceries into the back of a minivan. A child in a red jacket chased a ball along the sidewalk.
The world looked painfully ordinary.
I turned back.
"Do you have anything that proves this person exists?""
Tara hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"I saved one email.""
"Where?""
"In my old laptop. I didn't delete it because it contained an attachment.""
"What attachment?""
"A scanned page from Emily's notebook.""
I felt my breath catch.
"Get it.""
Tara hurried upstairs.
While she was gone, I called Jean.
She answered on the first ring.
"Scott?""
"I need to ask you something about Emily's final months.""
Her voice changed immediately.
"What is it?""
"Did Emily ever tell you she was worried about missing money or mishandled medical expenses?""
Jean didn't answer.
"Mom?""
Finally, she said, "Yes.""
I gripped the phone.
"What?""
"Two weeks before she died, Emily called me. She said she had found something wrong in the paperwork connected to her treatment. She was worried someone had charged expenses to an account that wasn't supposed to be used.""
My heart hammered.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because she asked me not to until she understood what had happened. She said she didn't want you distracted while you were caring for her.""
I closed my eyes.
"What exactly did she find?""
"I don't know. She said she was making copies of everything and keeping notes. She promised she'd explain once she had the records organized.""
"Did she ever send you those copies?""
"No.""
I swallowed.
"Mom, Tara says someone contacted her about Emily's notebook.""
Jean inhaled sharply.
"She found Emily's notebook?""
"Apparently.""
"Oh, Scott.""
"What?""
Jean's voice trembled.
"Emily told me she was afraid someone might try to use those records against you.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"Against me? Why?""
"She wouldn't say. She just told me that if anything happened to her, I should make sure Molly was protected.""
I stared at the hallway.
Those words sounded too much like the promise Emily had asked me to make before she died.
Always listen to Molly.
"Mom, did Emily name anyone?""
"No. But she mentioned that the issue involved a reimbursement request that had been submitted without her approval.""
I felt cold.
"Did she say who submitted it?""
"No.""
The line went quiet.
Then Jean said, "Scott, you need to find out whether this person is real. Don't send any more money, and don't let Tara handle the records alone.""
"I won't.""
After we hung up, Tara returned carrying an old laptop.
She set it on the desk and opened the email account.
Her hands shook as she searched through the saved messages.
"Here," she whispered.
The email had no company logo. No professional signature. Just a short message from an address containing a string of numbers.
The subject line read:
*FINAL NOTICE — EMILY BENNETT FILE*
I opened the attachment.
It was a scanned page covered in Emily's handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
Her letters leaned slightly to the right. She dotted her i's with tiny circles. She always wrote dates in the upper-right corner.
At the top of the page was a date from the final month of her life.
Beneath it were several account numbers and a list of medical reimbursements.
Then I saw a sentence underlined twice.
The $9,000 reimbursement was submitted without my knowledge. Scott must not be held responsible for this.
I read it again.
Nine thousand dollars.
Not nine hundred.
Not twelve hundred.
Nine thousand.
Below the sentence, Emily had written another line.
If they discover the original authorization, they will know who changed it.
My mouth went dry.
"Who changed what?"" I whispered.
Tara shook her head.
"I don't know.""
I scrolled farther down the email.
There was another message from the same sender, dated three weeks earlier.
You have until October 20 to settle the remaining amount. After that, the complete file will be delivered to Scott Bennett.
Today.
October twentieth.
The deadline wasn't about the twelve hundred dollars alone.
It was about something that had been hidden since before Emily died.
I turned toward Tara.
"Why didn't you show me this yesterday?""
She looked at me helplessly.
"Because I was afraid you'd think I had something to do with it.""
"Did you?""
"No.""
"Did you submit any reimbursement requests for Emily?""
She hesitated.
I stared at her.
"Tara.""
"One.""
The room seemed to go silent.
"What?""
"After Emily died, I helped you organize the medical paperwork. There was a reimbursement form that hadn't been completed. I thought it was for an outstanding bill.""
"Did you sign it?""
"No. I filled in some information, but you were supposed to review it.""
"Did I?""
"I don't remember.""
I looked back at Emily's note.
Scott must not be held responsible for this.
My first wife had been worried about something before she died.
Someone had submitted a reimbursement request without her knowledge.
And now someone was demanding money from my wife to keep the records hidden.
I reached for my phone.
"I'm calling the attorney.""
Tara grabbed my wrist.
"Scott, please. If you give him that email, everything could come out.""
I pulled away.
"That's the point.""
Before I could dial, a new email appeared on the laptop.
The sender's address was different this time.
The subject line contained only four words.
*YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.*
The message had one attachment.
A photograph of an old medical authorization form.
I opened it.
The patient's name was Emily Bennett.
The reimbursement amount was nine thousand dollars.
And in the section identifying the person who had authorized the payment, I found a signature that made my blood run cold.
It was mine.
Only this time, I knew exactly where I'd been on the date it was supposedly signed.
I had been sitting beside my dying wife in a hospital room, holding her hand while she struggled to breathe.
I had never seen that form.
And I had never signed it.
Tara looked at the screen.
Then she whispered, "Scott, I think we need to find out who had access to your paperwork before you met me.""
I turned toward her.
"Why?""
She pointed to the bottom of the document.
A name had been typed beneath the signature.
The person who had witnessed the authorization was someone I knew.
Someone who had attended Emily's funeral.
Someone who had stood beside me while I promised to raise our daughter.
*Jean Bennett.*
May you like
My mother-in-law.
And the woman who had spent the last twenty-four hours helping me uncover the truth.
