Chapter 17 - Shadows of the Past
Evan’s words hung in the sterile visiting room air like a shroud of toxic smoke. For a moment, my heart skipped a beat, but years of surviving his psychological games had taught me how to armor my mind against manipulation. I looked straight into his feverish, bloodshot eyes, letting out a calm, measured breath.
“If my grandfather had skeletons in his closet, Evan, you and Diane would have used them during the divorce negotiations instead of trying to forge quitclaim deeds and pushing me down basement stairs,” I replied, my voice sharp as a razor. “Desperate men invent fairy tales when reality leaves them with nothing.”
Evan slammed his palm against the glass partition, shouting across the wire before the guards could intervene. “Check the secondary vault at the county records office! The file is under the name Walter Bennett Jr.—your grandfather’s brother who supposedly died in a fire! He didn’t die in a fire, Claire! Your grandfather took everything from him!”
Before Evan could say another word, the two heavily armored guards descended upon him, pinning his arms behind his back and dragging him backward toward the heavy steel exit doors as he thrashed and cursed.
“Time’s up, visitor,” the senior guard barked, motioning for me to leave.
I placed the receiver back onto its cradle with deliberate slowness. I stood up, smoothed down the lapels of my wool coat, and walked out of the penitentiary into the bright afternoon sunlight. But despite my outward composure, a tiny seed of doubt had been planted in the back of my mind.
Was there any truth to what Evan had screamed across the glass? Or was it just the dying gasp of a cornered animal trying to inflict one last wound before his world collapsed entirely?
I pulled out my phone and dialed Naomi Price’s private number.
“Naomi,” I said the moment she answered. “I need you to run a full title and probate archive search on my grandfather’s older brother, Walter Bennett Junior. Dig up everything from county records before 1970.”
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There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. When Naomi spoke, her voice had lost its usual casual warmth. “Claire… why are you asking about Walter Jr.? I thought that file was sealed by federal court order thirty years ago.”
“Just open the file, Naomi,” I replied softly. “Let’s find out what my grandfather was really hiding.”
