The next morning, Thomas found the Ellis address.
It belonged to a woman named Clara Ellis.
Seventy-four years old.
Widowed.
Living alone outside Sacramento.
She had no known connection to Eleanor.
But when Thomas called her, she immediately recognized Richard's name.
"Why?"
She said she had been waiting for someone from the Harris family to contact her.
That sentence stopped me.
"How long?"
"Twenty years."
I looked at Thomas.
He put the call on speaker.
"Why?"
Clara's voice was tired.
"Because Richard promised he would return what was taken."
My throat tightened.
"What was taken?"
"Our land."
"Willow Creek?"
"Yes."
"How do you know Richard?"
"He came to see my father."
"When?"
"1994."
I calculated.
Richard had already been married to me for years.
We had children.
I had never known.
"What did he say?"
"He apologized."
"Why?"
"Because he had signed one of the original documents."
I closed my eyes.
"Did he tell you he had been involved?"
"Yes."
"Did you forgive him?"
There was a long pause.
"No."
I understood.
"What happened afterward?"
"He said he would make it right."
"Did he?"
"Partly."
"How?"
"He bought the property."
I looked at Thomas.
"He told us the land was his."
Clara gave a bitter laugh.
"It was."
"Why didn't he return it?"
"He couldn't find my father."
"Your father disappeared?"
"Not exactly."
She explained that her father had moved from state to state.
He had refused to speak about Willow Creek.
He believed the people who took the property would eventually come after his family.
"Did anyone?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Men asking questions."
I felt cold.
"What kind of questions?"
"Whether my father still had the documents."
"What documents?"
"The originals."
I thought of the ledger.
"Did he?"
"I don't know."
Clara's voice became quieter.
"He died without telling me."
I asked her one final question.
"Do you know Samuel Reed?"
She went silent.
"Yes."
"How?"
"He worked with my grandfather."
I stared at Thomas.
"Did he ever contact you?"
"Once."
"When?"
"Three months ago."
"What did he want?"
"He asked whether Richard had ever contacted me."
My pulse quickened.
"Did you tell him?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't trust him."
I thanked her.
Then ended the call.
Thomas leaned back.
"There's a pattern."
"Yes."
"Samuel has been looking for the same documents."
"And so has someone else."
I thought about the phone calls.
The person who knew about the recordings.
The person who entered Eleanor's house.
The person who knew exactly where the documents were kept.
"Michael."
Thomas didn't respond.
"Say it."
"I don't have enough evidence."
"But you suspect him."
"I suspect everyone."
That answer was fair.
We returned to the house.
I searched the old family albums.
Not for Richard.
For Michael.
I found a photograph from his college graduation.
He was standing beside a man I didn't recognize.
I enlarged it.
Thomas leaned closer.
The man had gray hair.
A faint scar near his jaw.
Samuel Reed.
"Why was he with Michael?"
I didn't know.
I called Michael.
He answered after three rings.
"Mom?"
"Who is Samuel Reed?"
Silence.
Then:
"Where did you hear that name?"
"Answer me."
"He's nobody."
"That's not an answer."
"I met him through Dad."
"When?"
"Years ago."
"Why?"
Michael became defensive.
"I don't know."
"Did he give you money?"
"No."
"Did he ask you to find something?"
Another pause.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"Trying to understand why you lied to me."
"I didn't."
"You knew about Samuel."
"So?"
"So he was looking for Richard's records."
Michael's breathing changed.
"I don't know anything about records."
"You know about the ledger."
Silence.
Then he said, "You need to stop."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because you don't understand what you're dealing with."
"Then explain it."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because people could get hurt."
I sat down.
"Who?"
He didn't answer.
"Michael."
"I have to go."
He hung up.
I stared at the phone.
Thomas took it from my hand.
"That sounded like fear."
"Yes."
"Not guilt."
I thought about it.
"You may be right."
That evening, Michael appeared at the house.
Alone.
He looked exhausted.
I opened the door but didn't invite him inside immediately.
"What happened?"
He looked past me.
"Can I come in?"
I stepped aside.
He entered.
He sat in the kitchen.
For several minutes he said nothing.
Then he placed a folder on the table.
"I should have told you."
I didn't touch it.
"Told me what?"
"I met Samuel because Dad asked me to."
I stared at him.
"When?"
"About two years before Dad died."
"Why?"
"Dad wanted me to find someone."
"Who?"
"Clara Ellis."
My heart stopped.
"Why?"
"He believed her family still had the original deed."
"And did you find her?"
"Yes."
"Did you meet her?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Samuel told me not to."
I looked at him.
"Why were you working with Samuel?"
"I wasn't working for him."
"Then what?"
Michael rubbed his face.
"Dad asked me to investigate because he was sick."
"You could have told me."
"He didn't want you involved."
"Neither did you."
He nodded.
"You're right."
I opened the folder.
Inside were photographs.
Documents.
Addresses.
And a letter from Richard.
Michael had kept it.
"Why?"
"Because I was ashamed."
I looked at him.
"What does it say?"
He swallowed.
"Dad told me that if I found Clara, I should give her something."
"What?"
"The original deed."
I stared at the folder.
"Do you have it?"
"No."
"Who does?"
Michael looked at me.
"Samuel."
The room went silent.
"Then why did you come here?"
"Because Samuel knows you have the ledger."
I stood.
"How?"
"He followed me."
"What?"
"After you called me, he knew I had come here."
I walked toward the window.
A black car sat at the end of the street.
Michael saw it.
His face went pale.
"That's him."
Thomas reached for his phone.
The car remained still.
Then the headlights came on.
It drove slowly past the house.
Michael whispered, "He's warning us."
I looked at my son.
For the first time since the inheritance fight began, I saw something other than greed in his face.
Fear.
Real fear.
And I realized the danger around us had become bigger than any family disagreement.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: Michael Confessed What He Had Been Hiding Since Richard’s Death, and His Secret Explained Why Samuel Had Never Stopped Searching
The Morning I Realized My Children Had Learned to Count My Worth in Dollars Instead of Years
Part 10 of 35
