Chapter 7 - My Daughter-in-Law Had Done This Before
Three years earlier, Cassandra told me she'd grown up in a difficult family.
Her mother was emotionally unstable, she said.
Her father had abandoned them.
She claimed she'd worked three jobs to finish college and had spent most of her twenties rebuilding her life.
I admired her resilience.
Now I wondered how much of that story had been true.
Detective Ortiz visited me on Monday morning with a photograph.
"Do you recognize this woman?"
The picture showed Cassandra standing beside an older lady outside a beautiful waterfront house.
"No."
"Her name is Margaret Ellison."
I examined the photograph.
She appeared to be in her late sixties, with silver hair and a generous smile.
"Who is she?"
"Cassandra's former employer."
I frowned.
"Cassandra told us she worked in luxury real estate."
"Before that, she was a private companion and household assistant."
The picture was dated six years earlier.
Margaret Ellison had been a wealthy widow living outside Charleston.
According to publicly available records, she sold her home after granting broad financial authority to a younger woman she believed was helping manage her affairs.
That younger woman was Cassandra.
"What happened to Margaret?" I asked.
"She relocated to a care facility. A distant relative later disputed several financial transactions, but the matter did not result in a criminal conviction."
"Was Cassandra investigated?"
"Her name appeared in the complaint. The allegations weren't substantiated sufficiently at the time."
I studied Margaret's smile.
Something about the photograph made my stomach ache.
The older woman stood close to Cassandra.
Trustingly.
Just as I had stood beside my daughter-in-law in countless family pictures.
Ortiz continued.
"Margaret's niece, Olivia, has agreed to speak with us."
"Is Margaret still alive?"
"Yes."
"Then I'd like to meet her, if she's willing."
He nodded.
"I thought you might."
That afternoon, Rebecca reviewed the Ellison records.
The similarities were troubling.
Both women owned valuable property.
Both had recently lost their husbands.
Both experienced alleged changes in cognitive ability after allowing Cassandra into their homes.
And both had been encouraged to transfer financial authority to another person.
"Do you think she targets widows?" Helen asked.
"We don't know enough to say that," Rebecca answered. "But the similarities justify investigation."
Olivia Ellison called later that evening.
She had a warm Southern accent and spoke carefully.
"My aunt loved Cassandra," she told me. "She genuinely believed that girl was the daughter she never had."
I closed my eyes.
"I understand."
"By the time I realized something was wrong, Aunt Margaret barely spoke to anyone outside the house. Cassandra answered her phone and canceled our visits."
"That sounds familiar."
"Then Aunt Margaret supposedly decided to sell her home and move into residential care. The proceeds went through an account managed by an investment adviser."
"Was Arthur Bell involved?"
Olivia paused.
"How do you know that name?"
My breath caught.
"He handled financial records for my husband."
"Arthur was the consultant Cassandra introduced to my aunt."
Helen, sitting beside me, stared in disbelief.
I asked Olivia whether Margaret had ever challenged the sale.
"She tried. But she was exhausted, frightened, and embarrassed. Everyone kept telling her that Cassandra had been helping."
"What happened to the money?"
"Most of it was eventually recovered through civil action against several parties, but Aunt Margaret lost years of her life fighting. Some funds were never traced."
I swallowed.
"Why didn't she pursue criminal charges?"
"She was afraid nobody would believe her."
That sentence broke something inside me.
I thought about Margaret lying awake in an unfamiliar room, wondering how a woman she'd welcomed into her home had gained so much control over her life.
I thought of my own kitchen.
The baseball bat.
Daniel staring at the floor.
"Would she speak with me?" I asked.
Olivia hesitated.
"I think she'd like that."
We arranged a video call for the following morning.
When Margaret appeared on the screen, I recognized the silver hair immediately.
She looked older than in the photograph, but her eyes were bright.
Olivia sat beside her.
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
Then Margaret smiled sadly.
"So," she said, "you met Cassandra."
I nodded.
"I'm afraid I did."
She studied my bandaged shoulder.
"Did she hurt you?"
"Yes."
Margaret looked away.
"I was lucky. She only made me believe I couldn't trust myself."
There was nothing lucky about it.
But I understood why she used the word.
Margaret told me Cassandra was wonderfully attentive at first.
She remembered birthdays.
Brought flowers.
Learned favorite recipes.
Then, gradually, she began isolating her employer.
A misplaced checkbook became evidence of dementia.
A disagreement became paranoia.
A request for financial records became emotional instability.
Eventually, Cassandra introduced Arthur Bell as a trusted adviser.
"She said Arthur could protect my assets," Margaret recalled.
Her hands trembled slightly.
"Instead, he helped put them beyond my reach."
"Did you ever discover why?"
"Money, dear. It's almost always money."
Then she leaned toward the camera.
"But Cassandra wanted something else from your family."
I froze.
"What?"
"About six months ago, she called me."
"Why?"
"She thought I still had a document Arthur once showed me."
"What document?"
Margaret looked at Olivia, who reached into a folder and held up a photograph.
It showed an old business agreement.
At the top were two names.
Richard Mercer.
Arthur Bell.
Below them was the name of a third man.
A man I had never heard of.
Jonathan Whitmore.
Whitmore.
Cassandra's maiden name.
I stared at the page.
"Who was Jonathan Whitmore?"
Margaret's expression changed.
"Cassandra's father."
I shook my head.
"She told me her father abandoned her when she was a child."
Margaret looked directly into the camera.
"No, Evelyn."
She paused.
"Her father knew your husband."
May you like
And then she said the words that would change everything I believed about Cassandra's arrival in our family.
"That girl didn't meet Daniel by accident."
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