Chapter 6 - The Sister Who Knew Too Much
Police traced Vivian’s call to a roadside motel outside Albany.
By the time they arrived, Room 214 was empty.
The door stood open.
A lamp had been knocked over.
Vivian’s phone lay beneath the bed.
There was no blood.
No body.
No Vivian.
But investigators found an envelope taped beneath the bathroom sink.
My name was written across it.
Inside was a memory card.
Ethan wouldn’t let me view it until technicians confirmed it was safe.
The video began with Vivian sitting inside a car.
No makeup.
No pearls.
No camel coat.
For the first time in my life, my aunt looked old.
“If Claire is watching this,” she said, “then Richard probably found me.”
She looked into the camera.
“I stole from Eleanor.”
No excuse.
No hesitation.
“I told myself I deserved it. Our parents always preferred her. Eleanor got the marriage, the house, the successful husband. I got debt and bad decisions.”
She laughed bitterly.
“That sounds pathetic when I say it aloud.”
Then she confessed.
Richard had approached her after Dad’s death.
He told her he could redirect money from the estate.
She agreed.
At first, thousands.
Then hundreds of thousands.
Then millions.
“When Eleanor began asking questions, Richard panicked.”
Vivian swallowed.
“He said we needed to frighten her.”
She admitted giving Richard the garage key.
She admitted knowing Caleb Mercer would tamper with the car.
But she insisted Richard had told her the damage would cause a warning light and frighten Mom into backing away from the investigation.
“I believed him because I wanted to believe him.”
My hands curled around the wheelchair arms.
Then Vivian said something worse.
“After the crash, Richard told me Claire surviving created a problem.”
I stopped breathing.
“He wanted me to convince you that you were incapable of managing the estate. He wanted guardianship transferred. I agreed.”
My stomach turned.
Every cruel comment.
Every missing document.
Every time Vivian called me unstable.
It hadn’t merely been abuse.
It had been strategy.
“If Claire died before the insurance investigation ended, Richard believed the remaining trust assets could still be redirected.”
Vivian began crying.
“I said no.”
I almost laughed.
As though that redeemed her.
“But I also didn’t go to police.”
No.
It didn’t.
She had chosen herself every time.
Then came the final confession.
“Your father discovered Richard was stealing years ago.”
Vivian looked away from the camera.
“Richard drugged him.”
My chest tightened.
“I knew afterward.”
I whispered, “Oh God.”
“I helped him hide it.”
The room disappeared around me.
Vivian had known my father was murdered.
For nine years.
She had eaten Thanksgiving dinner at our table.
Opened Christmas presents beside us.
Held Mom at Dad’s funeral.
All while knowing.
The video continued.
“I have the original financial records. Richard thinks I destroyed them. I didn’t.”
Vivian gave a location.
A safe-deposit box.
Then she said:
“Claire, I don’t expect forgiveness.”
Good.
“Your mother deserved a better sister.”
Yes.
“So did you.”
The screen went black.
Ethan remained silent.
I stared at my reflection.
“Find her.”
“We will.”
“Not because I forgive her.”
“I know.”
“Because she needs to answer for what she did.”
“I know.”
Police obtained the safe-deposit box.
Inside were original wills, forged signatures, bank records, and an audio recording.
Dad’s voice.
Richard’s voice.
My father had secretly recorded a meeting days before his death.
“You stole from my company,” Dad said.
Richard responded:
“You have no idea what you’re accusing me of.”
“I know exactly what I’m accusing you of.”
Then Dad said:
“Vivian told me everything.”
My blood ran cold.
Vivian had betrayed Richard once before.
That explained Dad.
And maybe Mom.
Richard had spent nine years cleaning up the same crime.
One theft had become two murders.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression sharpened.
“What location?”
He stood.
“Claire, stay here.”
“What happened?”
“They found Vivian.”
“Alive?”
He paused.
“Yes.”
Relief surprised me.
“Where?”
“Blackthorn Hill.”
My stomach dropped.
The same hill.
The same road.
The place where Mom died.
“What is she doing there?”
Ethan reached for his coat.
“She isn’t alone.”
“Richard?”
He nodded.
May you like
“And he says if police come any closer, Vivian dies.”
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