Chapter 9 - THE MAN LILY SAW
Andrew Reed agreed to meet.
Not at our house.
Sara's office.
Good.
He looked like the man Lily described.
Dark hair.
Forties.
Blue jacket.
And when he put his hands on the conference table, I saw one black-enamel cufflink.
Matching the one from Lily's purse.
He looked at the second cufflink and sighed.
“I wondered where that went.”
I stared.
“You were inside my house.”
“Yes.”
“Without permission.”
“I had permission.”
“From who?”
He looked at Vanessa.
She went still.
“I did not invite you.”
Andrew shook his head.
“Not you.”
Then:
“Claire.”
Silence.
Claire had died six weeks earlier.
I leaned forward.
“Try again.”
Andrew took out his phone.
An email.
Dated eight months ago.
Claire to Andrew.
If anything happens to me before I finish sorting Mom's trust files, you have permission to retrieve the blue Reed folder from Margaret's sitting-room desk and give it to Sara Klein. Daniel will assume it's another inheritance fight and miss the point.
I hated that my dead sister kept being right about me.
Then another line:
Do not enter if Daniel or Lily is home. Call first.
Andrew looked embarrassed.
“I called.”
“What number?”
The estate landline.
Disconnected during renovations.
He came anyway.
That was wrong.
He admitted it.
“I had no current number for you. I knew renovation staff were there.”
“They weren't.”
“I realized too late.”
“You saw Lily.”
“Yes.”
“And left.”
“Yes.”
“Why not give her your name?”
“Because an eight-year-old should not be carrying a dead woman's trust dispute downstairs.”
Good.
At least somebody understood that.
Then why did he ask if I was home?
Because if I was, he planned to identify himself.
When Lily said no, he retrieved nothing.
He heard Vanessa coming up the hall.
Left through the west service stairs.
Dropped the cufflink.
“What is the blue Reed folder?”
Andrew looked at Sara.
“You don't have it?”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“It was in Margaret's desk when Claire and I checked last winter.”
Claire and Andrew had met.
In person.
Michael looked at him.
“You knew about me.”
Andrew nodded.
“My father knew.”
“Caleb.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he tell me Daniel was alive?”
Andrew's face tightened.
“He tried.”
Michael laughed.
“No.”
Andrew took out an old certified-mail envelope.
Returned.
Michael's Seattle address from 2002.
REFUSED
Michael stared.
“I never saw that.”
Andrew said:
“My father kept the receipt.”
Someone at Michael's old business had refused it.
Maybe staff.
Maybe Michael himself and forgot.
No proof.
Again, a life changing around a tiny administrative act.
Then Andrew explained Caleb's role.
In 2005, Thomas Reed—Michael's father—was seriously ill.
Thomas held an old claim against Margaret related to a loan he made her father decades earlier.
Caleb held Thomas's financial power of attorney.
The $120,000 payment was negotiated to settle Thomas's claim and simultaneously advance Michael part of his trust interest.
That was why Caleb approved.
Michael looked stunned.
“Dad arranged that?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
Andrew looked at him.
“He did.”
He took out another letter.
Michael did not reach for it.
“Your father wrote that the money was partly yours and partly repayment to him. He forgave his portion so it could all go to you.”
Michael stared.
“I thought Mom paid me because she felt guilty.”
“Maybe she did too.”
Different motives can share one check.
Then Andrew said:
“The blue folder has the settlement.”
Sara frowned.
“If it exists, we need it.”
I looked at Andrew.
“You had permission to retrieve it.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Because it wasn't there.”
There.
May you like
Someone had removed Claire's blue Reed folder before Andrew entered the room.
And only a handful of people knew it existed.
