Chapter 5 - The Woman Her Mother Erased
Loretta had spent her entire life believing she had no grandparents.
Annelise's parents were dead.
That was the story.
Simple.
Closed.
Unquestioned.
Now Loretta stood outside a modest brick house in Oakville holding proof that at least half of that story had been false.
Stellan remained beside the car.
“You don't have to do this today.”
Loretta looked at the house.
“I've spent six years wishing I could ask my mother why.”
“About Victor?”
“About everything.”
She swallowed.
“If this woman knew her, I'm going in.”
Loretta rang the bell.
An elderly woman opened the door.
She had white hair and sharp brown eyes.
Loretta recognized those eyes.
Her own.
The woman stared.
One hand rose to her mouth.
“Annelise?”
Loretta's chest tightened.
“No.”
The woman's eyes filled.
“Loretta.”
She knew her name.
That hurt.
“You're Louisa Quinn?”
“Yes.”
“My grandmother.”
Louisa nodded.
Loretta's anger arrived before grief.
“You knew I existed.”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed away.”
Louisa closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother asked me to.”
Loretta almost walked away.
But Louisa said one more sentence.
“She thought Malcolm would find you through me.”
Loretta stopped.
Inside, over tea nobody drank, Louisa explained.
She had worked in corporate compliance.
Years earlier she identified Malcolm Reed as the common connection among several suspicious financial entities.
Annelise inherited her instinct for numbers.
Mother and daughter began documenting the network separately.
When Malcolm realized they were investigating him, Annelise made a choice.
She publicly severed contact with Louisa.
Created the story that her mother had died.
And kept Loretta far away.
“She protected you,” Louisa said.
“By lying to me.”
“Yes.”
“I would have understood.”
“You were twelve.”
“I would have understood later.”
Louisa's face crumpled.
“I know.”
Loretta looked away.
There was no clean answer.
Protection could become control.
Love could create damage while trying to prevent it.
Maybe that was what separated Annelise from Victor.
Her mother had made choices for Loretta because she believed danger existed.
Victor made choices for Loretta because they benefited Victor.
Intent did not erase consequences.
But it mattered.
“Do you know where the blue ledger is?”
Louisa shook her head.
“No.”
“Malcolm has it.”
“Then he has something worse than numbers.”
Loretta looked up.
“What?”
“Annelise recorded conversations.”
Stellan, sitting quietly across the room, finally spoke.
“Where?”
“In the ledger's binding.”
Loretta stared.
“There was a storage compartment?”
“Micro-storage card. Very small.”
Malcolm had not wanted the ledger merely for accounting evidence.
He wanted recordings.
“What did she record?”
Louisa looked at Loretta.
“Victor admitting what he did.”
Loretta's stomach tightened.
“Victor worked for Malcolm.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money at first.”
“And later?”
“Fear.”
Loretta almost laughed.
Victor.
The man who had controlled everyone in his household had allowed another man to control him.
Louisa continued.
“Eventually Victor tried to leave the arrangement.”
Loretta frowned.
“When?”
“When your mother became ill.”
That changed something.
Not enough to forgive him.
But enough to complicate the picture.
Victor had apparently spent years helping Malcolm move funds.
Then Annelise became sick.
Victor panicked.
He tried to repay money.
Tried to close accounts.
Tried to bury evidence.
But Malcolm kept him trapped through documents connecting Victor to everything.
The $187,000 debt Stellan had recently traced was not simply money Victor owed.
It was money Victor had moved while attempting to return stolen funds.
“He tried to fix it,” Loretta whispered.
Louisa's expression was sad.
“He tried to fix himself too late.”
Loretta thought of Victor on the porch.
Trying to send her with Stellan.
Had he truly intended to use her?
Or did part of him believe Stellan was the only person Malcolm could not intimidate?
Both things could be true.
That was the uncomfortable part.
At three that afternoon Loretta called Victor.
“Meet me.”
“Where?”
“Mom's restaurant.”
Silence.
Victor knew immediately which one.
Thirty minutes later they sat in the corner booth where Annelise celebrated every birthday.
Victor looked older than he had two nights earlier.
Loretta did not soften.
“Tell me everything.”
He tried to lie twice.
She caught him twice.
Finally he stopped.
“Yes,” he said.
“I worked for Malcolm.”
“For how long?”
“Nearly twenty years.”
“You stole from Varga?”
“I moved money.”
“That's not an answer.”
“Yes.”
Loretta's chest hurt.
“Did Mom know?”
“Eventually.”
“Did you marry her because of what she knew?”
Victor looked horrified.
“No.”
Loretta believed him.
Not because she trusted him.
Because his reaction was too immediate.
“I loved her.”
“You also lied to her.”
“Yes.”
“You used her credit.”
“Yes.”
“You used mine.”
Victor lowered his head.
“Yes.”
“And two nights ago you tried to make Stellan responsible for me.”
“I knew he wouldn't take the deal.”
Loretta stared.
Victor continued.
“I knew Stellan's father.”
“You expected him to refuse?”
“I prayed he would.”
“Then why not tell me?”
“Because Malcolm watches everything I do.”
Victor rubbed his face.
“He wanted you placed near Varga's accounts. I told him I could make it happen. I thought once you were inside that house, I could tell Stellan the truth.”
Loretta's anger returned.
“You gambled with my life instead of trusting me.”
“Yes.”
“You don't get credit because your plan was slightly less terrible than it looked.”
“I know.”
That answer surprised her.
Victor reached into his coat.
Stellan's security man, seated several tables away, tensed.
Victor slowly placed a small object on the table.
A blue leather cover.
Loretta stared.
“You said Malcolm had it.”
“He does.”
Victor tapped the cover.
“But I removed this before giving it to him.”
Inside the leather spine was a tiny storage card.
Loretta's hands trembled.
“Mom's recordings.”
“Yes.”
“Why keep them?”
“Because I was a coward.”
Victor's eyes filled.
“And cowards like insurance.”
Loretta took the card.
“Will it prove what Malcolm did?”
“I don't know.”
Victor looked toward the window.
“But it will prove what I did.”
For the first time, Loretta understood what he was giving her.
Not leverage over Malcolm.
Evidence against himself.
Victor stood.
“Use it.”
“Where are you going?”
“To an attorney.”
Loretta stared.
Victor managed a tired smile.
“You said I keep making everyone else responsible for my disasters.”
He nodded toward the card.
“You were right.”
Then he walked away.
That evening Loretta listened to Annelise's voice for the first time in six years.
The recording was faint.
But unmistakable.
Her mother.
Calm.
Precise.
Questioning Victor about transfers.
Then Malcolm's voice entered.
Loretta leaned toward the speakers.
One sentence froze everyone in Stellan's office.
Malcolm said:
“The Varga shares don't matter unless the Quinn girl survives long enough to inherit them.”
Stellan immediately stopped the recording.
Not because of the words.
Because of the date.
The conversation had occurred twelve years earlier.
Long before Annelise became sick.
May you like
Which meant Malcolm had known Loretta would inherit the shares before Loretta's mother had supposedly created the trust.
Someone inside the Varga family had told him.
