Chapter 7 - A WITNESS WHO WOULD NOT STAY QUIET
The sender agreed to meet us in a public café near the courthouse.
Her name was Evelyn Marsh, a retired paralegal who had worked for my grandmother's estate attorney.
She was seventy, neatly dressed, and visibly frightened.
I recognized her from a photograph taken at Rose's birthday party.
Evelyn looked at me for a long moment before speaking.
You have her eyes, she said.
Maya asked how Evelyn had obtained my number.
Through an old correspondence file, she answered.
She explained that Rose had questioned a financial transaction involving Richard's company shortly before her death.
Rose believed her house had been transferred without a complete explanation.
Evelyn had helped prepare documents requesting clarification.
Then the attorney handling the matter retired abruptly after a health crisis.
The file went quiet.
Why didn't you come forward then? I asked.
Evelyn lowered her gaze.
Because your father threatened to sue me and ruin my husband's business.
Her husband had since died.
She was tired of being afraid.
She handed Maya a copy of a letter Rose had dictated.
It was addressed to me but never delivered.
My dear Olivia, it began.
You may be told that asking questions makes you disloyal.
It does not.
The rest described Rose's wish that I have a financial foundation independent of my parents.
She had feared Richard's repeated borrowing and Diane's secrecy.
I read the letter with tears running down my face.
Rose hadn't forgotten me.
Someone had made me believe she had.
Evelyn could not confirm who had changed the estate documents.
She could testify only to what she had seen and heard.
Maya thanked her for making that distinction clear.
As we prepared to leave, Evelyn took my wrist gently.
There is one thing I haven't told you, she said.
The day after Rose died, Diane came to the office with a man who wasn't Richard.
Evelyn had seen him twice more in the following years.
Where? Maya asked.
At Martin Keene's brokerage office.
Outside, an unfamiliar SUV idled across the street.
When I looked toward it, the driver lifted a phone and took our picture.
Evelyn's face turned white.
That's him, she whispered.
May you like
That's the man who came with your mother.
