Chapter 14 - The Mother Angela Never Mentioned
Angela rarely spoke about her mother.
I assumed she died when Angela was young.
Wrong again.
Her name was Catherine Bell.
Former theater actress.
Voice coach.
Alive.
Seventy-one.
Estranged from Angela for twenty years.
Catherine had been Thomas Harcourt's second wife and Angela's mother.
They divorced when Angela was fourteen.
Catherine blamed Thomas for controlling every part of her life.
Angela sided with her father.
Mother and daughter stopped speaking.
Catherine later moved to Vancouver.
Sarah knew her but hadn't seen her in decades.
Could Catherine imitate Thomas?
Yes.
But could she fabricate financial authorizations, know the trust and manipulate family records?
Possibly only with help.
Investigators traced one recent call.
It originated through an internet service registered to Catherine.
She didn't flee.
She answered the door.
And admitted making the calls.
Angela confronted her by video.
“Why?”
Catherine looked at her daughter for a long time.
“Because Thomas asked me to.”
Before his real death three months earlier, Thomas contacted Catherine.
He was dying from cancer.
He believed the family would ignore any final warning from him.
So he recorded messages and asked Catherine to deliver them at specific moments.
Some calls were recordings.
Others were Catherine imitating him to force responses.
Manipulative.
Unethical.
But not evidence of a larger criminal scheme.
Angela cried.
“You let me think Dad was alive.”
“For three weeks.”
“I buried him five years ago.”
“That funeral was his choice.”
“Then he dies for real and you lie again?”
Catherine looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Thomas's actual death certificate was produced.
Cancer.
Hospital records.
Witnesses.
No mystery there.
Then Catherine delivered Thomas's final package.
Inside was a video.
Thomas appeared thin and ill.
He apologized to Angela.
To Sarah.
To Claire.
To Dad.
He admitted helping create the false death system.
He admitted lying about Sophie's survival.
He admitted protecting the relocation network at the expense of his daughters' right to know their own lives.
Then he addressed me.
“Lily, you don't know me. That's probably for the best.”
I almost smiled.
Then:
“Your mother Rachel discovered something I was too afraid to tell Richard.”
Richard leaned closer.
“The Hale trust wasn't Victor's idea.”
We knew that.
Michael Grant created much of it.
But Thomas explained why.
Cascadia Shelter Systems originally belonged to Patricia Monroe.
Rachel's mother.
My maternal grandmother.
Patricia wasn't merely a relocated victim.
She helped build the housing network after escaping Victor.
Victor invested initial capital.
Patricia operated it.
When their marriage collapsed, Victor claimed ownership.
Patricia hid her interest through the foundation.
Michael later created the trust to restore it to Patricia's descendants.
Me.
Sophie was contingent beneficiary because Michael wanted his daughter to protect the mission if Rachel's line ended.
The inheritance wasn't a random fortune.
It was the surviving structure of two families trying to protect people after experiencing control themselves.
Then Thomas said:
“But there is one person who can challenge Lily's ownership.”
Dad frowned.
“Who?”
“Patricia's first child.”
Rachel had an older sibling.
A son.
Born before Patricia married Victor.
Dad whispered:
“Rachel never had a brother.”
“She didn't know.”
The child was placed for adoption.
Thomas discovered him while reconstructing Patricia's records.
Name:
Eric Stone.
Silence.
Denise and Eric's mother Rebecca Stone had adopted Eric.
Eric wasn't biologically Rebecca's son.
He was Patricia Monroe's son.
My mother's half-brother.
My biological uncle.
The man investigating his adoptive mother's crimes was also a blood heir to the housing company.
That gave Eric a potentially stronger claim than anyone realized.
Eric was informed.
His response surprised everyone.
“I don't want it.”
He wanted records corrected.
Nothing else.
But Thomas's video continued.
“Eric isn't the danger.”
Then who?
“Rebecca Stone knew Eric's origin.”
She used it.
Before her death, she prepared documents claiming Eric inherited Patricia's ownership.
Those documents were never filed.
Denise found them.
That was why Denise targeted the trust.
Not merely revenge for her mother.
She believed the assets belonged to her brother.
Except Eric had never asked her to do any of it.
Thomas finished:
“Denise thinks she is restoring what was stolen. She doesn't understand Rebecca altered Patricia's records too.”
The original ownership was shared.
Patricia had a partner.
A woman who provided half the initial capital.
Thomas showed the partnership agreement.
Name:
Evelyn Mercer.
Grandma.
The two branches of my family had been connected before Dad ever met Rachel.
Not through conspiracy.
Through business.
Evelyn and Patricia built the first shelter properties together.
Then they fell out over secrecy and control.
Victor exploited the dispute.
The Harcourt Foundation stepped in.
Decades of lies followed.
Dad looked at Grandma.
“You knew Rachel's mother?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Yes.”
“Did you know who Rachel was when I married her?”
“No.”
That answer was independently supported by old correspondence.
For once, a coincidence really was a coincidence.
Then Thomas's video reached its final minute.
“If Richard is watching this, ask him why he removed Patricia's name from the first property deed.”
Richard looked stunned.
“I didn't.”
Thomas stared from the screen as though he could see him.
“Yes, you did.”
Richard stood.
“No.”
The video continued:
“And if he says he didn't, show him the signature.”
Catherine removed a document from the package.
Dad placed it before Richard.
Transfer deed.
Richard Sloan's signature.
Richard stared.
“That isn't mine.”
Dad whispered:
“Then whose is it?”
Richard looked at the handwriting.
His face changed.
“My brother.”
I frowned.
“You have a brother?”
Richard closed his eyes.
“Had.”
Name:
May you like
Robert Sloan.
Richard's identical twin.
