Chapter 13 - The Envelope Wayne Wanted BackRussell kept the envelope inside a locked drawer in his home office, beneath a stack of business contracts and old tax returns.
He had never opened it.
“I thought it was another one of Wayne's tricks,” he explained as he placed it on the table. “After Mama died, I considered throwing it away. Then I remembered what he said.”
“What exactly did he say?”
Russell rubbed the back of his neck.
“He told me it contained information that could destroy both of us.”
I studied the envelope.
Wayne's handwriting covered the front.
TO BE OPENED ONLY AFTER BEVERLY'S DEATH.
The seal had yellowed around the edges.
I opened it carefully.
Inside were two documents and a photograph.
The first document was a typed statement dated 2001. Wayne acknowledged that he had transferred ownership of Parrish Development to Russell to prevent a potential claim by Beverly. It was worded as though the transaction were a routine business decision, but a handwritten addition changed everything.
This transfer shall not be interpreted as a waiver of the original beneficiary's claim to the investment.
The second document was a draft settlement agreement.
It named me as the beneficiary.
The amount listed was $100,000, plus interest, with repayment to be made from the proceeds of any sale of the warehouse.
At the bottom was a signature.
Wayne Parrish.
He had drafted an agreement to repay me.
But he had never sent it.
The photograph showed Wayne standing beside a woman outside a motel. They were holding hands. The date on the back was written in Mama's handwriting.
October 1999.
I turned it over again.
“Who is she?”
Russell stared at the image.
“I don't know.”
Grace examined the photograph.
“Does Wayne have a second family?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Did Mama ever mention an affair?”
Russell shook his head.
I looked at the photograph more closely.
The woman was wearing a silver necklace with a tiny cross.
The same design as the pendant hanging from the rearview mirror of the dark sedan I had seen outside my house.
My pulse quickened.
“Wayne wasn't alone when I saw him.”
“What do you mean?” Grace asked.
I told them about the sedan. About the driver watching my house. About the silver cross.
Russell took the photograph from me.
“This woman might be the reason he left Mama.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But we don't know that.”
Grace returned to the documents.
“The settlement agreement is important. It shows Wayne considered repayment at some point, though we will need to verify its origin and the circumstances in which it was drafted.”
“Why didn't he sign it properly?” I asked.
“Perhaps he intended to. Perhaps he changed his mind. We cannot know yet.”
Russell sat down.
“I remember something from that time.”
We turned toward him.
“In 1999, Wayne told me he had to sell an investment. He said someone was threatening to expose him, and he needed cash to make the problem disappear.”
“Was it Mama?”
“I think so.”
“Did he pay her $18,940 then?”
“No. The transfer came later.”
Grace examined the photograph.
“Your mother may have been trying to identify the person Wayne was working with. If this woman was involved in the transfer of funds, she might know where the original account records went.”
I stared at the woman.
Her face was partly obscured by the shadow of the motel awning, but she looked familiar.
Not because I had met her.
Because I had seen her somewhere else.
I searched my phone for the picture I had taken of the sedan's rearview mirror. The silver cross was visible, along with a partial reflection of the driver.
I enlarged the image.
The woman in the photograph had a small crescent-shaped scar beside her left eye.
The driver had the same mark.
I looked at Grace.
“Can you identify her?”
She studied the photograph for a long time.
Then her expression changed.
“I know that woman.”
“Who is she?”
Grace lowered the photograph.
“Her name is Marlene Cross. She was the bookkeeper for Northwood Holdings.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared from the company's records in 2002.”
Russell stood abruptly.
“Wayne told me Marlene moved to Florida.”
Grace shook her head.
“She never filed a change of address with the company. And according to the information I have, she was the last person who had access to the second ledger.”
I felt a chill.
Wayne had warned us away from the ledger.
He had threatened Evelyn.
He had hidden the truth for thirty-five years.
And now we had identified the woman who might know where the missing accounting records were.
My phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
A woman's voice whispered, “Linda Parrish?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Someone who knew your mother.”
“Are you Marlene Cross?”
A long silence.
Then the woman said, “Your mother was right about Wayne.”
I gripped the phone.
“Where are you?”
“I can't tell you that yet.”
“Then tell me what happened to my settlement.”
Her voice trembled.
“I know where the money went.”
May you like
A pause.
“And I know what Wayne did to your mother the night she finally confronted him.”
