Chapter 4 - MY FATHER’S BROTHER
Raymond Bennett was my father’s older brother.
Growing up, I had called him Uncle Ray.
He lived two towns away.
He attended every birthday.
Every graduation.
He had even pinned my first officer insignia on my uniform beside Dad.
And he had not attended the memorial.
I had noticed.
I had assumed grief kept him away.
Now the absence felt different.
“What did Dad confront him about?”
Evan glanced around.
“Not here.”
“Why not?”
“Because people are listening.”
“Good.”
Mom stared at me.
“You really want to destroy your father’s memorial?”
I almost laughed.
“You shoved me in front of the entire church.”
“You deserved to hear the truth.”
“No.”
I held Dad’s letter against my chest.
“I deserved this truth eleven months ago.”
Samuel touched my arm.
“Claire.”
I looked at him.
“Thomas’s attorney is waiting.”
“Where?”
“His office.”
Mom’s eyes widened.
“Today?”
Samuel nodded.
“Thomas gave instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“If Claire returned for the memorial, the second envelope was to be opened before sunset.”
Mom moved toward him.
“You have no authority.”
“I don’t need any.”
“He gave the attorney authority.”
I checked the time.
2:16 p.m.
I had arrived in town that morning.
Dad’s memorial had started at noon.
My entire homecoming had lasted two hours before my family began falling apart.
Evan followed me outside.
Mom remained behind.
“Claire.”
I stopped beside my rental car.
“What?”
“Dad and Uncle Ray had a business.”
“I know.”
Bennett Marine Components.
A small company Dad and Ray started before I was born.
They supplied specialized mechanical parts to commercial shipyards.
Dad sold his operating interest years ago.
At least, that was what I thought.
“He never fully sold,” Evan said.
“What?”
“He kept voting shares.”
“How much?”
“Enough to stop Ray from selling the company.”
“To whom?”
“A private investment group.”
“Why would Dad care?”
Evan looked uncomfortable.
“Because the buyer wanted the patents.”
“What patents?”
“I don’t know.”
Of course.
Nobody seemed to know anything until forced.
“What does this have to do with Mom?”
“She wanted Dad to sign.”
“Sell the shares?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Ray offered her money.”
The sentence made the parking lot tilt.
“How much?”
“Two million.”
I stared at my brother.
“You knew this?”
“Not until later.”
“How much later?”
“After Dad got worse.”
“And you said nothing to me?”
“Mom said the sale was what Dad wanted.”
“Did Dad say that?”
Evan lowered his eyes.
“No.”
There it was again.
Mom said.
Mom said.
Mom said.
My entire relationship with my dying father had been filtered through one person.
And I had trusted her completely.
Samuel stepped out of the church.
“We should go.”
I opened the car door.
Evan caught my sleeve.
“There’s something else.”
I turned.
His face had gone pale.
“What?”
“The night Dad died, Uncle Ray was at the house.”
My breath stopped.
“What time?”
“Around ten.”
“Dad died at 3:40 in the morning.”
“I know.”
“Why was Ray there?”
Evan swallowed.
“Because Mom called him.”
“For what?”
“I heard them arguing downstairs.”
“What were they saying?”
“I only heard one sentence clearly.”
“What sentence?”
May you like
Evan stared at me.
“Mom said, ‘If Thomas makes it until morning, Claire gets everything.’”
