Chapter 3 - The Man Named Samuel
Samuel turned out to be alive.
That was the first surprise.
The second was that my father had paid him every month for twenty-seven years.
Rachel found the transfers in old Brooks Development ledgers.
Samuel Pike.
Retired attorney.
Eighty-two.
Living three hours away.
We drove there without telling Vivian.
His home sat beside a lake.
Small.
Quiet.
Nothing about it suggested he once represented one of the richest families in the state.
Samuel opened the door before we knocked.
He looked at me.
Then at Rachel.
Then back at me.
“You finally found out.”
My entire body went cold.
“You know who I am?”
He almost laughed.
“Nathan, I held you the night you were born.”
I stepped inside.
“Then start talking.”
Samuel did not seem offended.
Good.
We sat in his kitchen.
He made coffee nobody drank.
“Your grandfather, Harold Brooks, had two daughters.”
“Vivian and Mara.”
“Yes.”
“Vivian says Mara was unstable.”
Samuel’s face hardened.
“Vivian says many useful things.”
I glanced at Rachel.
Samuel continued.
“Mara married your father, Thomas Holland, at twenty-three.”
“My father’s name was Robert Brooks.”
“That was Vivian’s husband.”
My head hurt.
Samuel saw it.
“Slowly.”
“Yes.”
“Thomas Holland died when you were four.”
“How?”
“Construction accident.”
“And then?”
“Your grandfather became obsessed with the idea that you should be raised inside the Brooks family.”
“Why?”
“You were his only grandson.”
I stared.
“Vivian had no children?”
“No.”
“What about her husband?”
“Infertile.”
Something clicked.
“Vivian wanted me.”
Samuel nodded.
“At first, she offered to help Mara.”
“With what?”
“Money. School. Childcare.”
“And?”
“She became possessive.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“How?”
Samuel looked uncomfortable.
“She enrolled Nathan in a school without Mara’s permission. Took him to doctors. Made decisions.”
I asked:
“Was Mara unstable?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
“Depressed after Thomas died?”
“Yes.”
“Alcoholic?”
“No.”
“Dangerous?”
“No.”
My hands tightened.
“Then how did Vivian get custody?”
Samuel’s expression darkened.
“She didn’t.”
Silence.
“What?”
“She never had legal custody before Mara died.”
I stood.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
“I lived with her.”
“For eight months.”
I stared.
Samuel looked at me.
“Vivian told people Mara entered treatment.”
My stomach turned.
“She didn’t?”
“No.”
“She was fighting to get you back.”
I remembered the letter.
If you don’t return him tomorrow…
“Why didn’t Mara call police?”
“She did.”
“What?”
“Twice.”
“And?”
“Your grandfather knew the sheriff.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
Samuel continued.
“The second time, Mara came to me.”
“You represented her?”
“I agreed to.”
“What happened?”
He looked toward the lake.
“She died before I filed.”
I sat again.
“How?”
“The car.”
“Accident?”
Samuel took a long breath.
“That was the conclusion.”
“You don’t believe it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He stood.
Opened a cabinet.
Returned with an envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Mara’s car.
Destroyed against a tree.
Not underwater.
I stared.
“Vivian said river.”
Samuel’s face changed.
“She told you that?”
“Yes.”
Samuel sat slowly.
“The car never went near water.”
I felt sick.
Rachel touched my hand.
I pulled away reflexively.
Not from her.
From everything.
“What happened to Mara?”
Samuel looked at me.
“Nathan, I cannot prove what I suspect.”
“Say it.”
“She was coming to my office.”
“When?”
“The morning she died.”
“With evidence?”
“Yes.”
“What evidence?”
“Trust records.”
“What trust?”
He looked directly at me.
“The Brooks Family Trust.”
I laughed bitterly.
“I know the trust.”
“No.”
Samuel shook his head.
“You know Vivian’s version.”
He placed another document on the table.
Harold Brooks’s original trust.
I read.
Upon Mara’s death, her shares would pass to her biological child.
Me.
Not Vivian.
Not my father.
Me.
Thirty-eight percent of Brooks Development.
I looked at Samuel.
“I own thirty-eight percent?”
“You did.”
“What does that mean?”
“Vivian became trustee until you turned twenty-five.”
I stared.
“I’m forty-four.”
“Yes.”
“Then where are the shares?”
May you like
Samuel’s voice became very quiet.
“That is the question Mara was trying to answer before she died.”
