Chapter 10 - THE NIGHT DAD DIED
Mom finally told me where she was.
A motel forty miles outside town.
Police brought her back under protective supervision.
She was not arrested.
Not yet.
Detectives wanted her talking.
So did I.
We sat across from each other in an interview room at 6:30 in the morning.
For the first time since the memorial, she looked old.
Not guilty.
Not innocent.
Just exhausted.
“What happened that night?”
She stared at the table.
“Raymond came around ten.”
“Evan saw him.”
“I know.”
“Why did you call him?”
“Thomas told me he was contacting Helen and the police in the morning.”
“About the forgery?”
“Yes.”
“And Dr. Lawson?”
Mom nodded.
“Thomas believed Peter was helping Ray pressure him.”
“Were they?”
“Yes.”
The word barely came out.
My jaw tightened.
“And you?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
I felt the pain anyway.
“Why?”
“Because Ray convinced me Thomas was humiliating me.”
“How?”
“He said your father had hidden the real value of the company for years.”
“So?”
“He said Thomas planned to leave everything to you.”
“That wasn’t true.”
“I know that now.”
“Dad told you what you were getting.”
“I thought he was lying.”
“Why?”
“Because Raymond spent months telling me he was.”
There are explanations that clarify choices without excusing them.
This was one.
Mom had been manipulated.
But she had also chosen to help.
“What happened after Ray arrived?”
“Thomas ordered him out.”
“Did he leave?”
“Eventually.”
“Lawson?”
“He came later.”
My blood chilled.
“What time?”
“A little after midnight.”
“Why?”
“Ray said Thomas was in pain.”
“Was he?”
“Yes.”
“Did Dad ask for Lawson?”
“No.”
I stared at her.
“You let a doctor Dad distrusted come into the house after midnight?”
“He was his physician.”
“You knew Dad was suspicious of him.”
Mom began crying.
“I didn’t think—”
“That is not an answer.”
“I thought Peter would calm him down.”
“How?”
She covered her face.
“Medication.”
“What medication?”
“I don’t know.”
“Blue bottle?”
Her eyes snapped up.
That answered it.
“You know the bottle.”
“I saw it.”
“What did Lawson do?”
“He gave Thomas something.”
“Did Dad consent?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom.”
“He said no at first.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“What happened next?”
“Peter told him it was for pain.”
“And?”
“Thomas took it.”
“Then?”
“He became sleepy.”
“How long before he died?”
“About three hours.”
I felt physically ill.
“Did you call anyone?”
“I called Peter.”
“Why not 911?”
“He told me it was expected.”
“Expected?”
“He said Thomas was at the end.”
I stood and walked away.
My father might have been dying already.
But if someone administered medication improperly, his death could have been accelerated.
And Mom had trusted the people pressuring him.
“Where was Ray?”
“He left before Peter arrived.”
“You’re sure?”
She hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
“Mom.”
“I thought he left.”
“What does that mean?”
“I saw his car go.”
“And?”
“When Thomas died, I went downstairs.”
May you like
She looked at me.
“Raymond was in the kitchen.”
