Chapter 6 - Tessa’s Locked Box
Tessa arrived that evening with an overnight bag and a metal cash box.
She looked exhausted.
“Mom kicked me out.”
I opened the door wider.
“Because of the livestream?”
“Because I wouldn’t delete it.”
Maisie saw her aunt and ran toward her.
“Tess!”
Tessa crouched.
Maisie stopped two feet away.
For one painful second, she looked uncertain.
Then Tessa opened her arms.
Maisie climbed into them.
Tessa held her and began crying.
“I’m sorry, bug.”
Maisie patted her face.
“Nana mad.”
“I know.”
“No hit Maisie.”
Tessa closed her eyes.
“No.”
She kissed my daughter’s hair.
“No one gets to hit Maisie.”
After Maisie fell asleep, Tessa placed the metal box on my dining table.
“I’ve had this since I was nineteen.”
Inside were photographs.
School papers.
Three cassette tapes.
A diary.
And a folded police report.
I picked it up.
Tessa was nine years old when a teacher noticed bruising on her upper arm.
The school contacted child services.
Margaret claimed Tessa had fallen from a bicycle.
Tessa confirmed the story.
Case closed.
“She grabbed me,” Tessa said.
I looked up.
“Why?”
“I spilled nail polish on her bathroom floor.”
The similarity made me feel nauseated.
Soup.
Nail polish.
Small accidents.
Massive punishment.
“Where was Evan?”
“He was thirteen.”
“Did he see it?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
Tessa stared at the table.
“He told me to say I fell.”
I closed my eyes.
“Tessa.”
“He was a kid too.”
“I know.”
“He thought they would take us away.”
“Who told him that?”
“Mom.”
Of course.
Tessa opened the diary.
Several pages had been marked with yellow tabs.
One entry read:
Mom says if I tell Mrs. Parker what really happened, strangers will take me and Evan will never see me again.
Another:
Evan says Mom is sorry and I have to stop making trouble.
Another:
Dad was mad tonight.
He told Mom she needed help.
She threw his keys into the pool.
I looked up.
“Your father knew?”
Tessa nodded.
“Sometimes.”
“What do you mean sometimes?”
“He traveled constantly.”
“When he was home, things were calmer.”
“Did he ever try to leave?”
Tessa gave me a sad smile.
“Eventually.”
She pulled another document from the box.
A photocopy of her father’s will.
“I told you about the lake house.”
I read it.
The house had been left to Evan.
A smaller investment account had been left to Tessa.
But the signatures on the final probate documents differed from the will.
“Are you saying Margaret stole it?”
“I’m saying Dad changed lawyers six weeks before he died.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“And then?”
“The new lawyer handled everything.”
I looked at the name.
Gerald Knox.
It sounded familiar.
Then I remembered.
“That’s Margaret’s current lawyer.”
Tessa nodded.
“The lawyer filing against you.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“How long has he worked for her?”
Tessa met my eyes.
“Since before Dad died.”
The front porch light suddenly came on.
Someone had triggered the motion sensor.
Tessa and I looked toward the window.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
Its headlights were off.
Inside, someone was holding up a phone.
May you like
Pointed directly at my house.
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