Chapter 5 - THE PEOPLE HE OWED
There were seventeen messages on the burner phone.
None used real names.
Mara did not let me touch it.
She photographed the screen while Detective Ruiz, who had returned after Hale continued the search for Ethan, watched over her shoulder.
The messages were short.
PAYMENT DUE FRIDAY.
NO MORE EXCUSES.
YOUR FAMILY HAS ASSETS.
WE KNOW WHERE SHE LIVES.
One message included my address.
Another included a photograph of my front porch.
I felt suddenly cold.
Amber saw it and started crying.
“Who are these people?”
Ruiz looked at her.
“We’re going to find out.”
“You don’t understand. I have two kids.”
“I do understand.”
“No, you don’t. My husband just ran from police and apparently owes money to people taking pictures of his mother’s house.”
Ruiz softened slightly.
“Then you and your children should not go home tonight.”
Amber looked at me.
I could see the shame on her face.
The anger.
The fear.
For years, Amber and I had not been close.
She thought I judged her.
I thought she was too quick to defend Ethan when he acted irresponsibly.
That night, neither of us had energy left for old grudges.
“You can stay here,” I said.
Her face crumpled.
“I accused you.”
“You believed your husband.”
“I called you a liar.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at her for a long moment.
“Be sorry tomorrow. Tonight, keep your children safe.”
She nodded.
Nicole took Amber upstairs to call a neighbor who was watching the kids.
Mara and Ruiz continued reviewing the phone.
Then one text caught my eye.
I know you can get another 100 from P.
“What does P mean?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
But we all knew.
Patricia.
Me.
Another text:
She still has the lake cabin.
My heart stopped.
The cabin had belonged to my parents.
It sat on a small piece of land near Lake Erie.
It was not fancy.
Two bedrooms, old wood paneling, a dock Robert and I had repaired three times.
I had never told Ethan what it was worth.
But he knew I owned it.
“They wanted him to take my cabin too.”
Ruiz shook her head.
“Maybe.”
“No. Don’t say maybe.”
She looked at me.
“I don’t want to jump ahead of the evidence.”
I pointed to the phone.
“That is my address. That is my cabin. That is my retirement. What evidence are we waiting for?”
Ruiz held my gaze.
“The kind that puts people in prison.”
That shut me up.
At eleven thirty, Hale called.
They had found Ethan’s SUV abandoned behind a strip mall.
No Ethan.
No wallet.
No laptop.
“He planned this,” Nicole said.
“Maybe,” Hale replied over speakerphone.
“He had a second phone,” I said. “He ran. Of course he planned it.”
Hale sighed.
“Mrs. Reynolds, listen carefully. Lock the doors. Do not leave the house alone. If Ethan contacts you, do not meet him.”
“He’s my son.”
“And he’s under investigation for major financial crimes.”
That sentence still sounded unreal.
My son.
Financial crimes.
It felt like two pieces from different puzzles forced together.
Around midnight, everyone finally left except Amber, Nicole, Mara, and me.
The retirement cake was still sitting on the dining table.
CONGRATULATIONS ON 38 YEARS, PATRICIA!
Half the frosting had melted.
Nobody had eaten any.
I stared at it.
“This was supposed to be a happy night.”
Nicole touched my shoulder.
“We’ll have another dinner.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I don’t want another one.”
Why would I?
I had spent thirty-eight years counting down to retirement.
For what?
To discover my son had stolen enough money to destroy it before it started?
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Everyone froze.
Ruiz had told me to answer if Ethan called while recording everything.
I put the phone on speaker.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then breathing.
“Ethan?”
“Mom.”
Amber covered her mouth.
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“You need to make this stop.”
A strange laugh escaped me.
“Me?”
“Tell the bank you authorized the transfers.”
“No.”
“Just listen.”
“No.”
“If you tell them you gave me permission, most of this goes away.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I can explain.”
“You mortgaged my house.”
“I was going to pay it back.”
“You stole from your dead father’s account.”
Silence.
I swallowed.
“And you stood in my dining room and told my whole family I was a gambling addict.”
His voice became hard.
“You don’t understand what I was dealing with.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
“Try.”
Another silence.
Then he whispered:
“They’ll kill me.”
Nicole’s eyes widened.
I gripped the phone.
“Who?”
“I owe money.”
“How much?”
“More than you know.”
“Who do you owe?”
“You can’t tell police.”
“I’m not promising that.”
“Mom, please.”
His voice cracked.
It was the first time he sounded scared.
Really scared.
“There are people who don’t sue you when you don’t pay.”
My heart hammered.
“Where are you?”
“I need cash.”
“No.”
“Mom—”
“No.”
“You still have the emergency account.”
I felt sick.
Of course he knew.
Forty-five thousand dollars.
Robert and I had kept it untouched for years.
“How do you know about that?”
He didn’t answer.
My fear turned into rage.
“What else did you go through, Ethan? My files? My bedroom? My safe?”
“I need fifty thousand.”
“No.”
“Then you’re choosing them over me.”
I could barely believe what I was hearing.
“You stole nearly nine hundred thousand dollars from me.”
“That money doesn’t matter if I’m dead!”
The line went silent.
Then I heard a car door somewhere on his end.
A voice in the distance.
Male.
Ethan breathed quickly.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
The call disconnected.
Nicole immediately called Detective Hale.
But before she could finish dialing, a new text appeared on my phone.
Not from Ethan.
A photograph.
It showed him sitting in a chair.
May you like
His hands were tied.
And behind him stood a man holding a baseball bat.
