Chapter 7 - A Sister Who Wouldn't Stay Silent
Keisha Grant insisted on meeting in a crowded diner near the interstate. Malcolm arrived with Adrian and sat where he could see both exits. Keisha was a Black woman in her early forties, dressed in a grocery-store uniform beneath a worn denim jacket. She looked nothing like Camille except for the shape of her eyes.
“I don't want money,” she said before Malcolm could speak. “I want you to stop them.”
“Tell me what you know.”
Keisha folded her hands around a mug of coffee. “Camille and Darius grew up watching our mother work two jobs. They decided rich people owed them something. First it was small things. Fake invoices. Donations that never reached anybody. Then Tasha started asking questions.”
“Did Camille know my wife?”
“Long before you met her. She volunteered at the foundation under a different name. When Tasha found out about the money, Camille told Darius she'd handle it.”
Malcolm waited. Keisha stared into her coffee.
“Darius knew a man who drove freight,” she continued. “He talked about getting a truck near Tasha's route. I thought it was ugly talk. Then she died.”
“Did he admit causing the crash?” Adrian asked.
“No. I heard him say the driver had panicked and crossed the median. I don't know whether he meant to frighten her or hurt her. I should have gone to the police then.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Darius threatened my son. I believed him.” Her voice broke. “I still have the voicemail.”
Keisha handed over a copy, and Malcolm arranged for Price to receive the original. He would not ask Keisha to risk more than she already had.
“Why come forward now?” he asked.
“Because Camille called me yesterday. She said Naomi was becoming a problem. She wanted to send her to a boarding school in another state after Christmas. She laughed when she said the girl cried over her old bedroom.”
Malcolm gripped the table edge. Keisha leaned forward.
“She isn't just trying to steal your money,” she said. “She's trying to erase Tasha from that house. Naomi reminds her she was never first.”
By afternoon, Price had arranged to interview Keisha formally. She cautioned Malcolm that the truck allegation was still unverified and the original crash investigation would require careful review. Malcolm understood. He wanted answers, not a story that collapsed because someone rushed.
Camille's attorney sent a letter accusing Malcolm of alienating his wife and threatening legal action over access to the house. Ruth responded with the trust documents and a request that Camille preserve her communications and financial records.
Malcolm spent the rest of the day with Naomi. They bought a blue coat that fit her, new socks, and a box of crayons. At the store, Naomi stared at a display of bicycles without asking for one.
“You can pick a bike,” he said.
She shook her head. “They're expensive.”
“I bought you one already. It was returned without my permission. That wasn't your decision.”
“Will Camille be mad?”
“Camille isn't deciding this.”
Naomi chose a small blue bicycle with a silver bell. Malcolm put it in the garage, promising they'd practice when the rain stopped.
That evening, Isaiah arrived with a second discovery. He had checked the renovation plans from the year Tasha installed the hidden floor box. There were two concealed compartments, not one.
“Where's the other?” Malcolm asked.
Isaiah unfolded a drawing. “Behind the fireplace in your bedroom.”
Malcolm stared at the sketch. Camille had insisted on replacing that fireplace last month. The work crew had been scheduled for December twenty-sixth.
May you like
A notification appeared on Adrian's phone. Someone had just moved the fireplace renovation forward.
The contractors were coming at six the next morning.
