Chapter 14 - The Money Evelyn Took
Marcus confronted his mother in the same house where Thomas's photograph hung above the fireplace.
He placed the bank records on the table.
“One hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
Evelyn went pale.
Camille stood behind him.
Naomi was not present.
Marcus had wanted family before witnesses.
“Explain.”
Evelyn sat slowly.
“The money wasn't mine.”
“It went into your account.”
“I moved it.”
“Where?”
“To Denise Brooks's foundation.”
Marcus stared.
“There is no Denise Brooks foundation.”
“There is now.”
Camille blinked.
“What?”
Evelyn opened a drawer.
She removed incorporation papers.
The Denise Brooks Inclusive Design Fellowship.
Established three months earlier.
Funded anonymously.
Marcus sat back.
“Why?”
Evelyn looked toward Thomas's photograph.
“Because I knew the truth was coming.”
“From who?”
“Elliot.”
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“He told you Whitmore would activate the option?”
“Yes.”
“And he gave you money?”
“No.”
“Then why did Northstar send it?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I was told the money came from a settlement reserve Thomas created.”
Marcus looked at Camille.
Camille's eyes narrowed.
“Mom, who told you that?”
“Elliot.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Elliot had used Evelyn.
Or Evelyn wanted them to believe he had.
“Why hide the fellowship?”
“Because I didn't want it to look like public relations.”
Marcus almost laughed.
“It looks worse now.”
“I know.”
Evelyn began to cry.
“I owed Denise something.”
“You owed her truth.”
“Yes.”
The answer disarmed him.
Evelyn looked at her children.
“When your father removed Denise from the project, I agreed.”
Camille stared.
“You were involved?”
“I told Thomas she was threatening the family's survival.”
Marcus felt anger rise.
“She was threatening a bad renovation.”
“I know.”
“No, Mom. You keep saying that now. Did you know then?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I knew enough.”
Silence filled the room.
She continued.
“Denise came to this house once.”
Marcus looked up.
“When?”
“After she was removed.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me that someday someone I loved might need the access we were treating as optional.”
Marcus felt the words physically.
Evelyn looked at his wheelchair.
“She said it before you became ill.”
Marcus pushed away from the table.
“Stop looking at the chair.”
Evelyn froze.
“My disability is not punishment for what you did.”
“I know.”
“It is not some lesson the universe sent you.”
“I know.”
“Then stop telling this story like Denise predicted me.”
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Marcus continued.
“She didn't need me to become disabled for her to be right.”
Tears ran down Evelyn's face.
“Yes.”
Camille sat beside their mother.
No one comforted anyone yet.
Consequences needed room.
Marcus returned to the bank records.
“Why route the funding through Madison's company?”
“I didn't.”
“Elliot did.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Camille spoke.
“To implicate Madison if anyone found it.”
Marcus looked at her.
That made sense.
Elliot had created a trail tying Whitmore to Evelyn.
If needed, either family could be blamed.
Aaron arrived thirty minutes later.
He had worse news.
“Elliot's gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“His apartment is empty.”
Marcus frowned.
“Did he flee?”
“Maybe.”
“Police?”
“No basis to arrest him yet.”
Aaron placed a printed email on the table.
“Before disappearing, he scheduled this to go to the Carter board.”
Marcus read.
It accused Marcus of hiding Bellmont violations and misusing corporate resources to pursue a personal relationship with Naomi.
Camille laughed angrily.
“He's attacking first.”
Aaron nodded.
“And the board meets tomorrow.”
Marcus looked at Naomi's name in the email.
Elliot wasn't simply protecting himself.
He was trying to separate Marcus from the person who had helped uncover the truth.
Marcus called Naomi.
She answered quickly.
“Hey.”
“I need to tell you something before it becomes public.”
He explained the email.
Naomi was silent.
Then she said, “Do you want me to step away?”
Marcus felt a sharp pain.
“From the project?”
“From you.”
“No.”
“You didn't even think.”
“I've spent enough years letting other people decide what my life should look like because they're uncomfortable.”
“Marcus, your board—”
“My board manages a company.”
His voice softened.
“They do not manage me.”
Naomi exhaled.
“Then I'll stay.”
Marcus smiled.
“Good.”
The next morning, the board convened.
Marcus expected questions about Bellmont.
Instead, Peter Lang entered carrying a sealed envelope.
He placed it in front of Marcus.
“This arrived by courier.”
No return address.
Inside was a photograph of Elliot Shaw.
Taken the previous night.
He was meeting Charles Whitmore.
On the back, someone had written:
ASK WHICH ONE OF THEM KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED TO THOMAS CARTER'S LAST CONFESSION.
Marcus stared at the message.
His father's safe deposit box had contained a confession.
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But apparently Thomas had made another.
And someone had ensured the Carter family never received it.
