Chapter 8 - THE LIE INSIDE THE LIE
“How much did you tell her?”
Ethan rubbed his face.
“That Dad had money in the company.”
“Money in it?”
“I didn’t know he controlled it.”
“You knew he founded it.”
“No.”
I studied him.
He looked genuinely confused.
“What exactly did Arthur tell you?”
“Nothing. I found papers.”
“What papers?”
“Loan documents.”
“How would loan documents reveal Bellamy & Rowe?”
“They came from a holding company.”
My stomach tightened.
“Reed Family Holdings?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I searched the corporate records.”
Of course.
Public filings could reveal some ownership links, but not the entire structure.
“I learned Dad had a major stake.”
“And you told Brittany.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
“So at the funeral she knew Arthur was wealthy.”
“Yes.”
My anger became very still.
“She knew the man in the casket owned part of the company she worked for.”
“Yes.”
“And she still mocked my clothes.”
Ethan looked miserable.
“I told her never to mention it.”
“Why?”
“Dad asked me not to.”
“Arthur knew you knew?”
“Yes.”
The secrets kept multiplying.
I sat down.
“Did she know I had ownership?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think?”
“I told her Dad handled everything.”
I stood.
“Leave.”
“Mom.”
“I need you to leave.”
“You’re upset.”
“Yes.”
“Can we talk?”
“Not now.”
He looked toward the laptop.
“Are you going to call HR about this?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because your marriage is not an HR investigation.”
He nodded.
Then hesitated.
“Brittany’s not a monster.”
“I didn’t say she was.”
“She grew up with nothing.”
“So did I.”
“Not like her.”
“You don’t know how I grew up.”
That stopped him.
He had never asked.
My father repaired elevators.
My mother cleaned offices at night.
I wore hand-me-downs until college.
Arthur and I slept on a mattress on the floor the first year we were married.
But Ethan had grown up after the struggle.
Children often mistake the chapter they enter for the beginning of the book.
“Go home,” I said.
After he left, I called Patricia.
“Did Brittany know about Arthur’s ownership?”
Silence.
“Margaret…”
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Find out whether she ever accessed nonpublic company information.”
“That’s serious.”
“I know.”
“I’ll tell Janet.”
“Good.”
Then I added,
“Do not tell me the results unless she clears it.”
“You really mean to stay out of the employment decision?”
“Yes.”
“Even now?”
“Especially now.”
That night, I slept badly.
At 2:17 a.m., my phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
YOU THINK YOU KNOW YOUR DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.
YOU DON’T.
I stared at it.
Another message arrived.
CHECK STORE RETURNS FROM THE LAST SIX MONTHS.
Then a third.
ASK WHO APPROVED THEM.
I sat up.
“Who is this?”
No answer.
I called Patricia.
She answered sleepy but alert.
“Are you okay?”
“I got a message.”
I read it to her.
She became fully awake.
“Do not contact anyone at the store.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I’ll send it to compliance.”
At nine the next morning, Patricia called back.
“This is bigger.”
“How much bigger?”
“We found a pattern.”
“What kind?”
“High-value returns processed without merchandise physically present.”
My stomach dropped.
“How many?”
“Seven so far.”
“Under Brittany’s employee ID?”
“Some.”
“Some?”
“Others were processed under Mia’s login.”
“Mia?”
“But camera footage shows Mia wasn’t at the register.”
I stood.
“Who was?”
Patricia didn’t answer immediately.
“Brittany.”
I gripped the table.
“How much money?”
“We’re still adding it.”
“Estimate.”
“Over sixty thousand.”
I closed my eyes.
Then Patricia said,
“And Margaret?”
“Yes?”
“Every return was approved by the same manager.”
I already knew the name.
May you like
“Darren Cole.”
“Yes.”
