Chapter 10 - RICHARD’S CONFESSION
Richard survived.
Two broken ribs.
A concussion.
Cuts across his face.
Someone had run his car off a rural road.
When he woke up, the first thing he did was ask for police protection.
The second thing he did was ask for me.
I met him at the hospital.
He looked twenty years older.
“Connor.”
I stood at the foot of his bed.
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
“You helped her.”
“I know.”
“You could’ve destroyed my family.”
“I know.”
I wanted to hate him.
Maybe I did.
But I needed answers more.
“Tell me everything.”
Richard swallowed.
“Teresa came to me about nine months ago.”
“Before Frederick was born.”
“Yes.”
“She said you were worried Amy might divorce you.”
“She lied.”
“I know that now.”
“She wanted asset protection?”
“That’s how it started.”
“Then what?”
“She asked me about power of attorney.”
“Why?”
“She said you were traveling more and wanted someone available if something happened.”
“And you believed her?”
“At first.”
I crossed my arms.
“What changed?”
“She brought me a signed document.”
“The fake one.”
“Yes.”
“You knew.”
“I realized later.”
“You still helped.”
“I was already in.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“No.”
He looked down.
“She started threatening me.”
“With what?”
“She knew about a tax mistake I made for another client.”
“Illegal?”
“Potentially.”
“So you helped steal my house.”
“I helped prepare documents.”
“Same thing.”
He nodded.
Then he whispered, “But the house wasn’t her end goal.”
“What was?”
“Your company shares.”
I frowned.
“I don’t own company shares.”
“You own profit participation.”
Only three people outside my company knew that.
Amy.
My attorney.
Richard.
My construction firm had offered me a long-term profit-sharing contract tied to two major developments.
If both projects finished on schedule, my future compensation could exceed two million dollars over five years.
“How did my mother know?”
Richard closed his eyes.
“I told her.”
My hands curled into fists.
“She thought if she controlled your affairs, she could redirect distributions.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not with enough forged documents and a cooperative accountant.”
I stared at him.
“You were going to do it.”
“I was scared.”
“You were greedy.”
He didn’t deny it.
Then he said, “There’s one more thing.”
I waited.
“The Monday meeting wasn’t about transferring your house.”
“What was it about?”
“Declaring you financially incompetent.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“What?”
“Teresa was collecting evidence that you were unstable.”
“What evidence?”
“Fake messages. Edited recordings. Reports from relatives.”
Amy’s fear.
My long work hours.
Financial stress.
Anger.
Anything could be twisted.
“She wanted control of my finances by telling a court I couldn’t handle them?”
“That was the plan.”
“Would that work?”
“Probably not.”
“Then why try?”
“Because she didn’t need it to succeed.”
I stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“She needed to scare you into signing a family trust.”
I felt my stomach drop.
Richard leaned closer.
“She already had the trust drafted.”
“Where?”
He looked toward the door.
“Teresa kept a copy at her house.”
I turned to Daniels.
But Richard grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
“What?”
“She knows police will search the house.”
“So?”
“The real records aren’t there.”
“Where are they?”
May you like
He swallowed.
“Your father’s grave.”
