“What?”
“My dad.”
She blinked.
“I loved him.”
“Did you find him on purpose?”
No answer.
“Did you go to that charity event because you knew who he was?”
Her mouth tightened.
I knew.
My father knew.
Everyone knew.
Finally she said,
“At first.”
My father shut his eyes.
“At first what?”
“I was curious.”
“About the man whose wife died after investigating your sister?”
“That is not how I thought of it.”
“How did you think of it?”
She stared at him.
“As the man who ruined my family.”
The room went still.
There it was.
Her anger.
Not jealousy.
Not only money.
Something older.
“My sister lost everything after your wife started digging.”
My father looked stunned.
“Your sister was laundering stolen money.”
“She was twenty-four.”
“My wife died.”
“She didn’t kill her.”
“Did you?”
My stepmother stood.
Her attorney grabbed her arm.
She yanked free.
“You think I killed your wife?”
My father did not move.
“I think you’ve lied to me every day since we met.”
“I was nineteen.”
The number surprised me.
“You were there?”
“I went with my sister.”
“To the office?”
“Yes.”
“To the car?”
She stopped.
Her attorney said, “Do not answer.”
She looked at him.
Then back at us.
“I didn’t touch the brakes.”
My heart started pounding.
No one had asked specifically about the brakes.
My father’s attorney noticed.
So did hers.
My father whispered,
“How did you know something happened to the brakes?”
Her face drained.
The meeting ended immediately.
15
Three weeks later, investigators found my stepmother’s sister.
She had been living under a different surname.
She agreed to return voluntarily after her attorney negotiated the conditions.
The story she told was ugly.
But it finally made sense.
The sister admitted helping my father’s brother move stolen company money through shell vendors.
She claimed she did it because people connected to his gambling debt threatened both of them.
My stepmother, nineteen at the time, knew pieces of what was happening.
More than she later admitted.
The day before my mother died, the sister learned my mother had copied records.
Panic spread through everyone.
The sister wanted the brother to retrieve the copies.
My stepmother accompanied her.
At some point, while the others argued inside the office, my stepmother went outside.
She opened the hood of the sedan.
Not to cut the brakes.
According to her sister, she was looking for an envelope they believed my mother had hidden in the vehicle.