Chapter 14 - A MOTHER’S LAST PERFORMANCE
The interview room contained two chairs.
Doreen sat in one.
Abram entered alone.
At least that was what Doreen believed.
A camera recorded from behind dark glass.
Morgan listened from the next room.
Doreen looked smaller in jail clothes.
Abram hated himself for noticing.
She had always seemed enormous in his childhood memories.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The entire house had changed depending on Doreen’s mood.
Now she sat beneath fluorescent lighting with no jewelry.
No handbag.
No perfect dining room.
No locked doors she controlled.
Just a table bolted to the floor.
Abram sat across from her.
Doreen smiled.
“You look terrible.”
Abram said nothing.
“Is Celia still in the hospital?”
Silence.
Doreen tilted her head.
“That poor baby.”
Abram’s hands tightened.
Doreen noticed.
“Still easy.”
“What?”
“To make you react.”
Abram leaned back.
“Where is the lake box?”
Doreen laughed softly.
“You used to ask how I was before asking for something.”
“Where is it?”
“You hit me.”
“Yes.”
“In front of everyone.”
“Yes.”
“Do you regret it?”
Abram thought about Celia on the shed floor.
“Yes.”
Doreen’s smile widened.
“Good.”
“Not for your sake.”
The smile faded.
“I regret giving you exactly what you needed.”
Doreen stared.
“A violent son.”
Abram nodded toward the observation window.
“You spent months preparing to call me unstable.”
“You needed one moment.”
“I gave it to you.”
Doreen’s expression changed slightly.
Abram continued.
“I won’t give you another.”
She leaned back.
“Celia taught you that.”
“Dad did.”
That hit harder.
Doreen looked away.
Abram watched her.
“You killed him.”
Doreen turned back.
“Martin killed him.”
“Martin says you struck him.”
“Martin lies.”
“You injected him.”
“He was dying.”
“You left him breathing for forty minutes.”
Doreen’s eyes hardened.
“You weren’t there.”
“No.”
“You have no idea what your father was like.”
“I know what you were like.”
Doreen’s jaw tightened.
Abram leaned forward.
“Margaret is alive.”
Doreen’s face changed.
Only a flicker.
But Abram saw it.
“She told us about the shed.”
Doreen looked toward the wall.
“Margaret has always been dramatic.”
“You locked her in it too.”
“For one night.”
Abram stared.
Doreen realized what she had said.
For the first time, she had admitted something without meaning to.
Abram almost smiled.
Behind the glass, Morgan had heard it too.
Doreen recovered.
“She was dangerous.”
“She found you stealing from Ruth.”
“That money belonged to the family.”
“Not to you.”
“I was the family.”
There it was.
Abram sat back.
Doreen stared at him.
“You think Celia understands what it takes to hold a family together?”
“She survived you.”
“That was unnecessary.”
Abram almost laughed.
“You locked my pregnant wife in a shed.”
“She would not listen.”
“So you imprisoned her.”
“I protected what your father built.”
“You were selling his land.”
“For twelve million dollars.”
“I didn’t want to sell.”
“You always think you know better.”
Abram looked at her.
“It was mine.”
Doreen’s voice sharpened.
“It was ours.”
“No.”
“Your father built that company with me.”
“Then he left the land to me and Felix.”
“Because Celia influenced him.”
“Dad barely knew Celia.”
Doreen looked away again.
Abram caught it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep reacting to her name.”
Doreen said nothing.
“Why?”
“Celia is irrelevant.”
“No.”
Abram leaned closer.
“Dad mentioned her on the recorder.”
Doreen’s face emptied.
Abram saw it.
“You know why.”
Silence.
“What did Dad know about Celia?”
Doreen stared at him.
Then she laughed.
“Martin never told you?”
Abram’s stomach tightened.
“Told me what?”
Doreen studied him.
“You really don’t know.”
“Know what?”
She smiled slowly.
“Ask Celia who her mother worked for.”
Abram stared.
“What are you talking about?”
Doreen leaned back.
“Your wife did not find our family by accident.”
Abram felt anger rise.
“She met me at a charity auction.”
“Yes.”
“Five years ago.”
“Yes.”
“What does her mother have to do with anything?”
Doreen’s smile became satisfied.
“Everything.”
Abram refused to react.
“Lake box.”
Doreen laughed.
“You’re frightened now.”
“No.”
“You should be.”
“Lake box.”
Doreen leaned forward.
“Your father knew Celia’s mother.”
Abram’s mind raced.
Celia rarely spoke about her mother, Evelyn, who had died when Celia was twelve.
Evelyn had worked as an administrative assistant.
That was almost everything Abram knew.
Doreen continued.
“Evelyn Hart worked for Martin Vale.”
Abram went still.
“When?”
“Twenty-seven years ago.”
“What did she do?”
“She copied files.”
Abram’s chest tightened.
“What files?”
Doreen whispered.
“Mine.”
Abram stared.
“Why?”
“Because Margaret paid her.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“You’re lying.”
“Ask Margaret.”
Doreen smiled.
“Your precious wife’s mother was the first person who tried to expose me.”
Abram stood.
“Where is the lake box?”
Doreen looked pleased.
“At last.”
She had gotten inside his head.
Abram knew it.
He sat back down.
Doreen studied him.
“Promise me something.”
“No.”
“You don’t know what I’m asking.”
“Still no.”
Doreen’s mouth tightened.
“Felix gets nothing.”
Abram frowned.
“What?”
“The east land.”
“The company.”
“The house.”
“He gets nothing.”
“You’re bargaining with property you don’t own.”
Doreen’s face twisted.
“He cost me everything.”
Abram stared.
“You mean his debt.”
“I mean his weakness.”
“You stole company money to cover it.”
“To protect him.”
“You keep using that word.”
Doreen looked at him.
“Because none of you understand what protection costs.”
“Dad did.”
“Your father was weak.”
“Margaret survived you.”
“She ran.”
“Celia survived you.”
“She got lucky.”
Abram’s eyes hardened.
Doreen realized the mistake too late.
Silence.
Abram slowly stood.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You just admitted Celia did not ask to be locked in.”
Doreen’s face changed.
“I did not.”
“You said she got lucky surviving.”
“That means you knew she was in danger.”
“Abram.”
He walked toward the door.
Doreen slammed both palms onto the table.
“Sit down!”
Abram stopped.
He turned slowly.
Doreen was breathing hard.
The controlled mother was gone.
For one instant, he saw what Elias must have seen at the end.
A woman terrified of losing ownership.
“You want the box?”
Abram waited.
Doreen’s eyes burned.
“Old Mercer Textile Mill.”
Abram frowned.
The abandoned family mill had been closed for fifteen years.
“Where?”
“Basement.”
“Specific.”
“Boiler room.”
“Where in the boiler room?”
Doreen smiled again.
“Behind the east wall.”
Abram reached for the door.
Doreen called after him.
“Abram.”
He looked back.
She spoke softly.
“When you watch that video, remember something.”
“What?”
“Your father was not afraid of me at the end.”
Abram waited.
Doreen’s smile faded.
May you like
“He was afraid of what you would learn about him.”
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